


The Man I Used To Be

by purpledragon42



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, F/F, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2020-04-06 19:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19069570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purpledragon42/pseuds/purpledragon42
Summary: Years after a deal with the feds went horribly wrong, Jesse McCree is just an ex-con trying to keep his nose clean.  He spends his days working in a tattoo parlor, and his nights trying to forget the past.  He’s not looking for trouble - can’t afford it.  However, when a series of unexpected events leads Hanzo Shimada, yakuza-boss-in-training, into his little corner of the world, Jesse’s suddenly struggling to remember the difference between ‘trouble’ and ‘where have you been all my life.’





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First - Hello and welcome to my story! I want to start out by saying this is a (mostly) completed piece of fanfiction. You will not be left eternally hanging. I’ve simply decided to post the story in pieces a little at a time (probably every couple of weeks) in the hopes that it will maybe pull in some additional readers as new segments appear. It’s also a way for me to get a feel for what y’all like and don’t like in small doses rather than one big heap. LOL!
> 
> Second - What little I know about the criminal justice system in regards to incarceration and paroling was obtained via research. There’s not really too much out there about the do’s and don’ts and some of it seems relative based on what you were in for, etc. That being said, if any of the information regarding those pieces of the story sounds inaccurate, please let me know. I strive for accuracy whenever possible.
> 
> Second (Part 2) - The same thing goes for tattooing and tattoo parlors. I did research; I’m by no means an expert. Something sounds wonky, let me know and I’ll do what I can to fix it.
> 
> Third - I am very much open to constructive criticism. If you don’t like something, don’t just tell me, ‘I didn’t like that!’ - tell me WHY. If you think someone seems OOC, tell me WHY. I’ve got an open mind and I’m willing to make adjustments and take others’ thoughts into consideration. I’m also open to additional tagging suggestions, if y’all feel like there’s more I should add/make people aware of.
> 
> Fourth - While this may be me getting my hopes up (because I’m silly like that) if you have any desire to create art or aesthetics or playlists whatever based off of this fic, please do! All I ask are two things: One - If you post it anywhere, please link back to my fic so that others can read the fic that inspired you. Two: Let me know so I can ogle over and admire your lovely creations… and maybe promote them here? :D
> 
> Okay, I think that's everything. I hope y'all enjoy the fic.

 

_“I carry some scars from lessons I've learned_

_Dreams I've chased that crashed and burned_

_Like a faded tattoo, it's part of who I am.”_

_~_ [ _Matt Kenon_ ](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/mattkennon/themaniusedtobe.html) _~_

 

Jesse McCree had been a lot of things to a lot of people over the years - most of them bad.  He spent a healthy part of his teens and early 20’s with a group of people that (sometimes) felt like family.  They pulled one heist after another; the world was theirs and it felt like nothing could take them down. Until it did.  The resulting explosion killed the others outright and put him in the hospital, leaving Jesse’s left arm horribly scarred. Once he was healed ‘enough,’ the cops showed up and hauled him off to prison.

 

Life on the inside was hard - especially when his still-healing arm got him special treatment now and then.  Physical therapy was a bitch. But after a couple of mishaps, he made some friends who had his back. Well - one friend, specifically.  Gabriel Reyes (for no reason Jesse could figure) showed him the ropes - taught him how to survive. And by the time his mentor finally got his freedom, Jesse knew all he needed in order to protect himself (and others) just like Reyes had protected him.

 

A few years later, the justice system deemed him ‘worthy’ of returning to society, too.  Getting out was about as bad as he’d expected, but he had a good parole officer to make the transition easier.  Jack Morrison knew his stuff and taught Jesse what he needed to reintegrate himself. And Reyes had stayed local (even though his parole had been over for awhile) which meant Jesse had a friend he trusted (and who understood) - someone he could talk to.  Jesse McCree did his best from that point on to walk the straight and narrow.

 

However, after nearly a year of on-again, off-again jobs, he was about ready to give up.  Nobody kept him on for long, no matter how hard he tried. Yeah, some of that might’ve been his inability to keep his mouth shut, but not all of it.  He was getting by, but only just barely. And then came the windfall. Reyes had come into some money (Jesse didn’t ask how and didn’t really care.) All that mattered was that his friend had plans to open his own tattoo parlor and he wanted Jesse to help him get started!  The only knowledge Jesse had of the art had been learned on the inside. But Reyes (like always) was a good teacher, and while the place was being renovated, Jesse learned all he could.

 

His mentor had always taught by example, and this was no exception.  The arm that bore the scars of Jesse’s past - of his mistakes - got an expert makeover.  By the time his friend was through, Jesse’s scars were hidden (from fingertip to elbow) by ink designed to look like a mechanical arm - and his mind was filled with the dos and don’ts of inking skin.  Not long after, the doors to Reyes’ shop opened with a roomy apartment up above. Jesse crashed there sometimes after a late night, but not always. Not on the nights when Jack showed up. Damn - those two could claim to be ‘talking shop’ all they wanted, but Jesse recognized how his friend and his parole officer looked at each other… maybe even envied it a little.  

 

And this was where life had led him when Genji Shimada walked into Jesse’s world, starting the ex-con on a new path - one he never could’ve seen coming.

 

* * *

 

Jesse was dozing in one of the parlor’s empty waiting chairs, boots propped up on the coffee table, long, jean-clad legs casually crossed and relaxed.  His dark shirt said (in relatively small print) ‘People with tattoos are more fun to see naked.’ The man who entered didn’t make a sound - like a fucking ninja.  Of course, it didn’t help that the damn bell had been broken for over a week and Reyes hadn’t gotten it fixed yet. With his cowboy hat down over his face, Jesse didn’t know there was someone else around until a throat cleared softly.  With a curse, he shot up, hat dropping to the floor as his eyes settled on the newcomer. Male. Asian. Probably about his own age? Early 30’s? With a scruffy mop of bright green hair. He was giving the ex-con an amused look.

 

Jesse cleared his throat as he stooped down to grab his hat off the floor.  “Sorry ‘bout that. Keep forgettin’ the damn bell’s busted. What can I do for ya?”

 

The green-haired man kept grinning.  “I’ve been hearing good things about this place from friends.  Thought I’d come check it out.”

 

From friends, huh?  It was always hard to tell when someone stepped into a tattoo parlor what they expected out of the experience.  Some were just curious, others wanted something small and ‘token,’ others had art they wanted copied, and some - the guys Jesse referred to as ‘the real deal’ - they wanted _art_.  They were his favorites.  Reyes said he had a knack for it - the intricate stuff, and truthfully, Jesse thought so, too.  He liked losing himself in the spilling of ink onto skin. It was about the only time the ex-con was able to sit still and fully relax.

 

“We do good work,” Jesse replied, seeing no need for humility. “I’ve got some books you can look through, or if you’ve got some idea of what you’re wanting, we can talk design and placement.”

 

The potential customer produced an 8 x 10 folder from a satchel slung over one shoulder, hipster-style.  “I’ve actually brought some images. For inspiration, I guess? I want the design to be unique, not a copy of anything, but I wanted you to be able to see what I’m visualizing.”

 

Jesse grinned.  This sounded like it would be a challenge, and he hoped he could take the job instead of Reyes or one of the others.  “Well, then, why don’t ya have a seat. Want somethin’ ta drink? Soda or water? No alcohol - boss don’t allow it. Thins the blood too much if yer getttin’ one, and makes yer hands unsteady if yer inking on.”

 

“Thanks, but no,” came the chuckled reply as the green-haired man sat and began pulling images out of the envelope, arranging them on the table.  They were all dragons - Asian dragons with undulating bodies and long flowing whiskers. Dragons that soared through curlicued clouds and over snow-peaked mountains.  

 

Jesse gave an impressed whistle.  He’d been right! This was going to be an amazing challenge!  Without really thinking, he joined the customer, sitting close as he poured over the images, tattooed arm occasionally reaching out to shift one this way or that.  “I can do this for ya… hell, I’d love to get the chance for somethin’ this detailed…”

 

“Did you do this?” the man asked, reaching out to touch Jesse’s arm before the other could say not to.  Not that it mattered. The guy’s fingers withdrew as soon as they made contact with rough, scarred flesh.  “I… sorry. I didn’t realize…”

 

Jesse sniffed in a nonchalant sort of way and shrugged.  “No big deal, but it’s pretty damn impressive, am I right?  The boss, Gabriel Reyes, he did it for me. Taught me a lot in the process.  Tattoos are good for that kinda thing - coverin’ up scars, I mean. If people are gonna stare, might as well have ‘em starin’ at something worthwhile, am I right?”  He tried to move the conversation back on track, because _holy hell_ he did **_not_ **want to talk about how he’d gotten those scars.  Not with some guy who’s name he didn’t even know.  “So… where were you thinkin’ you’d want somthin’ like this?  And what scale are we talkin’?”

 

“Well, I’m not an artist, so I’d like to leave most of that up to you… but I think I’d like two dragons in different shades of green.  Maybe have them wrapping around my arms and going onto my back, but I couldn’t decide where the heads should be…”

 

Jesse nodded, considering their options.  “Well, the way I see it, having the heads on your back would be best.  There’s more room to really go into some good detail that way. And if I position things just right, I can have the claws clinging to your shoulders, which would look damn cool… Are you wanting a scene in the background?  Or do you want it to look more like the dragons are really, uh… clinging to your skin?”

 

The customer tilted his head as he considered the options Jesse had offered.  “I think you’re right about the heads on the back… and clinging, I think? But I’d like to see some examples of how that would look, if you have any?”

 

“Sure!  Gimme a sec.”  The ex-con stood and moved over to a tall shelf filled with all kinds of ‘coffee table’ books about tattoos.  Some were about the history of the art, some covered contemporary artists, and others talked about tattooing in specific regions of the world.  Those in particular, were often used to discourage people from getting their skin inked with things they didn’t understand the true meaning of. The shelf also held several bound books that Reyes had gotten made through one of those self-publishing services.  Each one featured finished in-house designs (and the process to get there.) Jesse had most of the pictures in those memorized by heart, and he grabbed a couple of relevant ones before heading back, offering them to the green-haired man.

 

“That top one has the most examples, but it’s easier for ya to jus’ flip through and see for yourself.  Also… pay attention to who the artists are. You might decide you like someone’s style, and want to ask for them specifically.”  He almost didn’t want to add that last part, because _DAMN_ did he want to be the one working on this job.  But fair was fair and he didn’t want to be accused of stealing it out from under everyone else.  Not that they would. The other artists that worked here were all friends; it was a tight-knit little group - him and Reyes, and then there was Aleksandra and Torb, too.  Reyes was considering adding a fifth person, but they hadn’t managed to find anyone who fit just right - not yet.

 

“Thanks,” the guy replied as he took the books.  “So… can you tell me which ones are yours?”

 

Jesse grinned (a little flattered) but shook his finger and made a tsk-ing sound.  “That’s cheatin’. Don’t ya want an unbiased opinion when ya choose?”

 

“Well… maybe.  But I think, for a tattoo that’s going to take as long as this one will, I’d like to have a good rapport with the one doing the work, and… you seem alright.”

 

A snort of laughter escaped the ex-con; he couldn’t help himself.  “If you’re hittin’ on me ta get a deal…”

 

The guy’s eyes went wide, “What…?!  Oh! No…!” He laughed and ran a hand through his hair.  I’ve… got someone… someone great. No, I just like your… casual style, I guess?  You don’t beat around the bush, either. It’s… well, it’s a nice change from home.”

 

Jesse nodded.  “Yeah, I get it.  Well, in that case, pay special attention to anything with the name of Jesse McCree.  That’s me.”

 

A grin spread over the guy’s face.  “I’m Genji Shimada, and I look forward to working with you, Jesse.”  

 

Jesse couldn’t help but return such a nice smile and he kept it up as he retook his seat and began to give the images the other man had brought a closer look.  “Likewise.” Shimada...? Why did that name sound familiar…? “We’re gonna make some amazing art together; guarantee it.”

 

* * *

  ** _~ 8 Months Later ~_ **

* * *

 

 

“And… dragon numero uno is now complete!” Jesse crowed as he put the finishing touches onto Genji’s skin.

 

The younger man let out a sigh of relaxed relief as the ex-con began his usual ‘clean-up’ routine.  “I can’t believe we’re halfway there. And you were right, even though it took longer, the shorter sessions seemed to speed up the healing time.”

 

“Told ya,” Jesse replied with a grin as he massaged lotion into the fresh work.  “Everyone’s skin is different and yours seems to like small batches better. Plus,” and here he chuckled, voice turning teasing, “Ya get damn antsy after any more than a few hours under the needle.  A right pain in the ass!”

 

Genji laughed.  “I’ve never been good at staying still for long.  I used to try and do meditation with my brother, but it never lasted, and I always managed to make him mad at me.”  He put on a stern tone which Jesse assumed was a mimic of this brother. “Genji! How many times must I tell you to be still!  I require focus!” The younger man grinned and rolled his eyes.

 

“Isn’t makin’ ‘em mad what brothers are for?” Jesse teased as his friend laughed.  Genji didn't talk about his family much. All he really knew was that there was a lot of tension there, and a lot of pressure for Genji to take his life in directions he didn't want to go.

 

“So, when should I come back to start on the other arm?” the younger man asked, eyeing the last bit of work with approval before grinning up at Jesse.

 

The ex-con hummed.  “Well, technically, we could start tomorrow since it’s not anywhere near the fresh tats, but… how about you take some time off?  We’ve reached a milestone, and it wouldn’t hurt to celebrate that with a little rest, ya know? So, do your healin’ and we’ll make plans once your body’s had a chance to get itself back to normal for awhile.”  As he spoke he snapped a few cellphone photos of the finished art. “Can’t wait to get this one into the new book.”

 

A voice from behind him spoke up.  “It’s some of your best work, Jesse.  Straight up.” Reyes appeared at his side, leaning over to admire today’s final inking.

 

“Thanks, boss,” Jesse replied, offering a genuine smile as the older man reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  

 

“Once you’re healed,” Reyes said to Genji, “I might ask for you to sit for some professional photos.  Something we can use for advertising? If that’s alright.”

 

Sitting up and turning to face them, the green-haired man nodded enthusiastically.  Sure! And I won’t even ask for a cut of the profits.” He laughed and gave both men a wink.  Then, looking to Jesse, “We still on for this Saturday? I’ve got someone I want you to meet.”

 

“Someone…?”  Jesse’s brows rose.  “This ain’t the someone I’ve been tryin’ ta get ya to introduce me to almost since we first met is it?!”  

 

“The one and only,” Genji replied, grin going brighter.

 

“Well, hell yeah!  Count me in! Wouldn’t miss it!  Usual place?”

 

Genji shook his head.  “Someplace different. I’ll get you the details.  He’s back in town for awhile and offered to do a benefit thing at the club that got him started.  It’s going to be crowded, but amazing. And _I’m_ our ticket backstage.”

 

Jesse’s brows rose in surprise.  “Wait… wait…! You snagged yourself someone _famous_?!  I’ll be damned!  What else don’t I know about you yet, Shimada?!”  

 

It felt like a shadow fell over the younger man’s features at the question, but Genji just smiled and shrugged.  “Everyone’s gotta have a few secrets, right?”

 

“Damn straight,” Jesse and Reyes replied at almost the same time.

 

Genji looked a little surprised by the immediate responses, but then grinned.  “Glad to know I’m not alone in that,” he laughed, gathering his things. “Catch you guys later.”  And then he was out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**_~ 3 Months Later ~_ **

* * *

 

“He no-showed for his first appointment?” Reyes asked, confusion in his voice.  “Have you tried to call?”

 

“‘Course I called,” Jesse grumbled with an affronted expression.  “Called an' texted an' every other damn way I could think of.  Nothin’.  Not a peep.”

 

“Mm... something must’ve come up.  Keep trying. I’m sure he’ll get back to you as soon as he can.”

 

Jesse grimaced.  “Yeah… guess so. Not much else I _can_ do, is there?”  Which didn’t stop him from staring down at the phone screen, trying to will a message from his friend into existence.

 

Reyes watched him for a second, then sighed and said, “While I wouldn’t normally condone this… you _do_ remember that we require an emergency contact for everyone?  If you’re really worried, you could always give whoever he put down a call.”

 

The younger man looked up at his boss.  “You’re worried, too.”  Not a question.  He knew Reyes well enough to read more into the gesture.

 

“Genji’s a good guy.  This isn’t like him…”

 

Jesse moved over to the computer behind the counter, brow furrowed.  “Lookin’ it up now.” It was one thing for him to worry; he did that a lot.  But seeing Reyes worried, too, somehow added urgency to things.

 

Keys clacking loudly, a name and a phone number appeared on the screen.  “Hanzo Shimada. Right then, let’s see what you’ve got to say.” Picking up his cellphone, he dialed the number listed.  It rang for long enough that he was beginning to wonder if he'd gotten something wrong. Shouldn’t an answering service have picked up by now?

 

Then the ringing stopped and a voice that was somehow both soft and sharp said, “I do not know how you got this number, but you need to lose it.  Now.”

 

Jesse swallowed and had to remind himself that this WAS important, and that he hadn’t been calling just for his own amusement.  “Uh, yeah… howdy. I was actually trying to get in touch with Genji. He missed his appointment, y’see, and he hasn’t gotten back to me, and…”

 

“Who IS this?!”  The words were razor sharp - demanding - and yet again Jesse froze before replying.  Damn… this guy was kind of a dick!

 

“Name’s Jesse McCree.  I was doing some tattoo work for…”

 

“Stop,” the voice interrupted.  “Do not call this number again. Ever.”  Then there was a vague click and silence.

 

“The hell?!” Jesse growled, pulling the phone away from his ear to stare at the screen in disbelief.  Then, because he didn’t like being told what he could and couldn’t do, he dialed the number again, and let it ring.

 

The voice answered again.  “I am not in the habit of repeating…”

 

“Well then don’t,” Jesse drawled, anger in his voice now.  “Listen up. Genji’s not just a client, he’s a friend.  If there’s some reason he don’t wanna talk to me, then fine, but…”

 

“My brother…” came the voice (not sounding quite so in control now) Was that a tremble Jesse heard?  “... is dead. Do NOT call here again.” And then silence as Jesse was hung up on for a second time. The ex-con gaped… and his hand trembled as he set the phone down.

 

“Jesse…?”

 

Reyes’ voice sounded like it was coming at him from far away.  Jesse’s legs wobbled and he found himself pressing his back against the wall before sliding to the floor.

 

“Jesse!”  

 

Hands wrapped around his shoulders, but he was having trouble seeing.  Fuck!  Was he crying?!  Later - much later - Jesse would recognize that it wasn’t just the news of Genji’s death that hit him so hard.  Yeah, that was rough, but he’d had people die on him - they seemed to do it all the time.  No.  It was the _way_ the news had been delivered.  Cold and distant - as if what he felt didn’t _mean_ anything.  Didn’t _matter_.  The cops had done that, too - informing him of the deaths of Ashe and the others… right before hauling him out of the hospital and off to prison.  But none of that clicked for him right now. All Jesse knew was that he couldn’t control his tears and didn’t know why.

 

Jesse vaguely registered Reyes getting him upstairs and pouring him black coffee laced with whisky… or was that whisky laced with coffee?  He thought he managed to mumble something about what had happened… or maybe he imagined it.  Whatever. Didn’t matter.  Reyes wasn’t gonna press things - not when he could barely hold a mug.  At some point he must’ve passed out on the couch.  When he came to, there were voices nearby.  Reyes and… Morrison?  Yeah, that figured.  He listened to their hushed whispers - mostly Reyes worrying about him - and decided he wouldn’t be interrupting anything too awkward if he joined them in the kitchen (and had another drink.)

 

Bleary-eyed, he made his semi-consciousness known by walking to the kitchen cabinet where he knew Reyes kept the good stuff, pulling it down and pouring himself a large glass.  Morrison’s voice was almost instant behind him. “Do you really need...?”

 

“Yes.”  Jesse cut him off with a grimace, but didn’t move to face the men yet.  Finally he turned and made his way to the small table, grabbing the closest chair, turning it around backwards, and then sliding into it.  “Genji’s dead. And some asshat brother can’t even find the decency ta give it ta me easy.  Prick.  Actin’ like the whole world should already know or somethin’...”  

 

Morrison pushed something towards him - a newspaper article about a hit and run.  Cops said it was a smash and grab gone wrong.  Motorcycle spun out of control.  Genji…  Jesse cursed and pushed the paper away.  His parole officer frowned down at it before speaking.  “I don’t know what your ties are to this family, Jesse… but they should end now.”

 

The ex-con’s eyes darted up to look at Morrison and then Reyes and the back to Morrison, slightly confused and hoping it was just the alcohol.  “Ties?  Don’t hafta go makin it sound all nefarious, hoss.  I spent most of a year working on a tat for the guy.  I liked him… as a friend,” he quickly added.  “We _weren't_ fucking.  Besides… what difference would it make?”

 

He saw Reyes look at Morrison and then back down at the article.  “Did you read the whole thing, Jesse?”

 

Anger sizzled through him.  “Fuckin’ hell…!  No, no I didn’t, Gabe.  And I don't feel like it.  So maybe y’all wanna summarize shit for me, huh?”

 

Reyes frowned but said nothing, deferring to Morrison, who sighed and spoke.  “The Shimadas are in control of one of the largest criminal organizations in the world.  If it’s illegal, they’ve got their hands in it somewhere.  Genji… was second in line to inherit the empire.  Right behind his brother, Hanzo.  Technically, just being in the same room with Genji was a violation of your parole - regardless of what the two of you were, or weren’t, doing.”  Morrison gave a crooked smile.  “Guess it’s a good thing I have no knowledge that the two of you ever crossed paths.”  A beat.  “And it needs to stay that way.”

 

Jesse blinked.  This was… way too much information to take in all at once.  “I can’t go to the funeral, then?”

 

Reyes spoke this time.  “Even if you wanted to, flaco, it’s by invitation only.”

 

Downing more of his drink, Jesse nodded.  “Right… gotta keep out the riff-raff… the people who actually cared ‘bout him.”  A silent thought. “Shit… I need to call Lucio…” But Morrison was already shaking his head.  

 

“You need to walk away, Jesse.  I’m sorry.  This family and the people around them are too high profile.  It amazes me you weren’t found out before now.”

 

“Found out?!”

 

“Jesse…” came the warning from Reyes, but he ignored it, slamming his now empty glass down onto the table.

 

“We weren’t doin’ anythin’!  He was a friend!  An' a good guy!  Fuck who is family is!  An' Lucio deserves to know!  He an’ Genji… they were… they were…”  His throat closed up and Jesse found he couldn’t say it… not with tears burning in his eyes and threatening to spill over again.

 

“Genji’s murder is a big deal,” Morrison tried to explain.  “Everyone has their eyes on the Shimada family right now - law enforcement included.  Everyone expects there to be some sort of retaliation for this.  I can only do so much to protect you.  Or do you _want_ to go back to prison over one phone call?”

 

“Better for Lucio to hear from a friend than to find out the way I did… or fuck, hear it on the news!  He deserves better! He deserves…!”

 

This time it was Reyes who interrupted, but he was talking to Morrison.  “Jack… it’s just one phone call. And I think Jesse’s right.  Fuck, if anything ever happened to y… to someone I cared about.  I’d want to hear it from a friend… Wouldn’t you?”

 

Morrison eyed the other man for a moment, and then nodded, sighing.  “Yeah… alright.  One phone call.  But!”  He gave Jesse a warning look.  “Not until you’re sober.”

 

Jesse couldn’t really argue with that… although he still wanted to.  “Thanks…” was what he said instead.  “Guess I better… go sleep it off…”  He stood… and wasn’t sure if the wobble in his walk was from the alcohol or the shock still in his system.  “Leave the article… wanna read it later.” Then he moved into the living room and crashed back onto the couch, sleeping for nearly 24 hours.

 

He called Lucio as soon as he was feeling lucid.  Was it a blessing that the DJ hadn’t heard yet or not?  Jesse wasn’t sure. They talked for a long time… and then despite Morrison’s warning, he told Lucio he could call any time he needed or wanted.  Fuck his parole.  Jesse didn’t have a lot of friends, and they were more important to him than just about everything else.

 

Once the call was done, he started making plans.  Maybe the funeral was closed to ‘lookee-loos,’ but graveyards were open to everyone.  It took a bit of digging, but he eventually found out where Genji was buried.  A little more research, and he’d pulled up some traditional ways to honor his friend.  Genji’s connection to his culture had been what Jesse might refer to as… frayed.  But it was still there, so he thought (or hoped) his friend would appreciate his efforts.  

 

* * *

  ** _~ One Week Later ~_**  

* * *

 

 

Jesse didn't own a lot of dress clothes.  In fact, the only ones he had were what he used whenever he had to go talk to the parole board.  For lots of reasons, he felt like it would be tempting fate to wear those, so instead, he put on a nice pair of jeans (no holes), shined his favorite pair of boots, and pulled a dark leather jacket on over a shirt that read, ‘Of course I’m awesome, I’m a tattoo artist.’  As a final touch, he trimmed his beard a little, and pulled his unruly hair into a low ponytail at the base of his neck.

 

Finding the grave took a little more time than expected.  It was a large graveyard, and in a place like New York City there were tombstones that dated back to before the Revolutionary War.  But eventually he spotted it, dirt still turned over, everything on the stone written in Japanese characters.  But he’d done his research on that, too.  This was definitely where Genji had been laid to rest.  Jesse knelt off to one side - his own upbringing refusing to let him tread over or on the grave.  And although he felt a little stupid, at least the place seemed empty as he started talking softly to the cold slab of stone.  

 

“Hey, man.  Uh, seein’ as how you just got put under I figured your spot wouldn’t need much cleanin’ so I hope ya don’t mind if I skip that part.”  Jesse pulled a pack off his back and reached into it. “But I brought your favorite sake - the kind Jean kept at the bar jus’ for you.  Damn, that stuff’s not cheap.  But I figure you’re worth it.”  Setting a small sake cup at the grave’s base, he poured into it and then set the bottle beside.  “And I found some incense that smells a lot like that aftershave Lucio wears…”  He pulled out a box of the sticks and placed three carefully on the grave’s base before lighting them up.  “Anyway... I’m not really the prayin’ sort… you know that.  So, uh… hope it’s okay if I jus’ talk instead.  Wanted you to know I spoke to Lucio.  He heard it from me first.  Didn’t take it well, but damn, who would, right?  Wish I could’ve told ‘im in person. But he’s off in Hollywood… I think?  Don’t worry, though… I’m gonna keep tabs on him for ya.  Promise.”

 

Jesse cleared his throat a little, then sighed.  “The papers aren’t sayin’ much about what happened.  Some sorta kidnapping gone wrong or somethin’. Wish I’d been there… woulda pounded ‘em all into the ground for ya.  Also, I dunno if I’ll be able to come back here again.  Morrison’s been flippin’ out about your… family ties and how if it looks like I’m connected it could put me back in jail…”  The ex-con sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy locks, forgetting he had them pulled back and mussing his hair a little.  “Just wanted ya to know that you’re missed.  And if I didn’t think yer family was gonna deal with the bastards who did this… well, I’d say fuck my parole and find a way ta deal with ’em myself…”  

 

He trailed off into silence, taking a deep breath, surprised at how calm he felt here… almost like he did when inking.  Then something prickled up along his spine.  Jesse knew that feeling all too well from his days on the inside.  Someone was watching him.  Intently.  And not in a good way.  “Looks like I’m about ta be leavin’” he murmured just as a familiar voice snapped behind him.

 

“You do not belong here.  Leave now.”  The words weren’t loud, but they held a cold menace to them that immediately had the ex-con tensing.

 

“Easy,” he replied, standing slowly and keeping both hands in view.  “I was jus’ payin’ my respects to Genji. Not here to cause any trouble.”

 

Then Jesse turned… and finally set eyes on the man he knew had to be Hanzo Shimada.  And, fuckin’ hell, he had to resist the urge to whistle.  Hanzo wasn’t tall - a few good inches shorter than Jesse, but his bearing still managed to scream, ‘Don’t even try it, punk!’  He was dressed in black slacks and a black shirt that looked like it was probably silk.  Unremarkable… until the light hit the fabric just right, revealing an Asian pattern in a blue so deep it practically disappeared into the black.  His dark hair, just barely starting to go white at the temples, was done up in a sleek top knot, and it was all rounded off by a precisely trimmed mustache and goatee.

 

Genji had always been a good-lookin’ guy.  And if he hadn’t been taken…?  Hell, yeah, Jesse would’ve made a move.  But if Genji was hot, his brother was on _fire_.  An odd phrase to use on a man glaring at him with eyes that could make snow fall in the Mojave.  Still - it was the truth.  Jesse’s mouth went dry, and his brain immediately did all that it could to remind the rest of him that this man was off limits for SO many reasons.

 

Hanzo’s eyes narrowed in seeming suspicion as Jesse’s voice seemed to register.  “You… are the one who called me.”

 

“S' right,” Jesse agreed, seeing no reason to deny it.  “And you’re the asshat with the empathy of a brick.”  Yeah, okay, not one of his better insults, but he took pleasure in watching the other man’s form go just a fraction more rigid than it already was.

 

“Get. Out.”

 

Jesse was about to oblige, but something in him refused.  He wanted to get under Hanzo’s skin - to force the man to feel even a fraction of the frustration Jesse felt while dealing with him.  So instead, he smiled and shrugged. “Can’t. Custom says I have to stay until the incense burns down.”  And with that he purposefully turned his back on the other man and knelt down facing the grave again.

 

Behind him, Hanzo blustered.  “You…!  How dare you presume to tell ME of my people’s customs!”

 

Okay, so maybe he hadn’t meant to be _that_ offensive… Oops.  On the other hand, he was pretty sure he was right about the custom and the guy was STILL being a dick, sooo…

 

He turned back, still kneeling and looked up at a very angry Hanzo.  And damn if anger didn’t look _good_ on the other man!  Jesse’s mind took a split-second dive into the gutter as he registered his own eye-level view, and then quickly looked back up.  “Am I wrong?  The incense has ta burn down, and then I clean it up, right?  Or… are you offering to clean up after me?”  Yeah, he thought that might get a rise, too.  Mister prim and proper having to clean up after someone like _him?!_  Never!  And, boy howdy, did the guy react!  Hanzo swooped forward with a soft growl, snatched the sticks that’d been lit earlier, and snuffed them.  “Hey…!”  But Jesse didn’t get the chance to say anything more than that before Hanzo whirled on him.

 

“If you do not leave this instant, I will _MAKE_ you leave.”  And fuckin’ hell if Jesse didn’t believe that he could.  That was one thing about prison.  You learned real fast who to take seriously and who not to.  Hanzo was a man to be taken seriously. _Very_ seriously.  Jesse’s casual nonchalance fell away almost instantly.

 

“Oh, I’ll go,” he replied, standing in one smooth motion that belied his gangly limbs.  “But you… you oughta get offa that high horse ‘a yours. Just cause Genji had friends ya don’t approve of don’t mean they don’t have tha right to grieve… or pay their respects.  I was tryin’ ta do things right.  An' you…” Jesse let a small sneer tug at his lips.  “I bet you don’t even have a clue why that incense in yer hands was somethin' Genji would’a liked.”

 

Jesse didn’t wait for a response, and wouldn’t’ve turned around if he’d gotten one.  He just slung his bag over his shoulder, leaving the sake behind, and walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

**_~ One Week Later ~_ **

* * *

 

“Closing time,” Reyes said with a grin, clapping a hand on Jesse’s shoulder as the younger man sat on a stool at the register, sketching a new design.  “You wanna shut down out here?  I got the back?”

 

Jesse looked up and gave his boss a nod, setting the book aside as he went to grab a mop from the supply closet.  It was important to keep a place like this as clean as possible.  After all, a tattoo was like an open wound, and could be just as easily infected.  So, the cleaner they kept things, the better.  He was in the closet filling up a bucket with water when he heard the bell over the door chime.  “Damn,” he muttered under his breath.  “Forgot ta lock the door...”  Then, to Reyes, he called out, “I got it, boss!” before heading out into the main room.

 

A man stood at the counter, short but broad-shouldered, his back was to Jesse as he flipped casually through the pages of the sketchbook that’d been left on the counter.  Jesse wanted to snap at him to get his hands off, but thought better of it. This was a potential customer.  No need to get off on the wrong foot.  “Sorry, we closed ‘bout five minutes ago…” he started, but the words cut off abruptly as the other turned.

 

Hanzo Shimada.

 

“Aww… fuck,” Jesse muttered, a scowl replacing his casual expression.  He wasn’t worried about a continuation of their previous conversation.  Fuck that.  He was worried about who might have eyes on the ‘crime-lord-in-training’ and the kind of trouble it could get him into.  

 

Hanzo’s expression was neutral, showing no sign of caring about Jesse’s reaction as he said, “I wanted to speak with someone about a tattoo.”

 

Wiping wet hands on his jeans, Jesse sighed.  “Then you’ll hafta talk to my boss, ‘cause I can’t have anythin’ to do with ya.”  Then before Hanzo could say anything in reply to that, he called out, “Reyes! You’re gonna hafta deal with this one.”

 

The older man appeared almost immediately, the confusion on his face changing quickly to recognition and understanding before it faded into an almost carbon copy of Hanzo’s own expression.  “Get upstairs, Jesse.  And give Jack a call.  Better that he have advance warning about this.”

 

Jesse thought he saw Hanzo’s eyes narrow at that, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded and left the room.  But he didn’t go far.  Not yet.  He wanted to know what happened next.  So he stood in the back and listened.

 

Hanzo spoke first.  “I am not a danger to anyone in this place.”

 

Jesse resisted the urge to snort, not wanting to be discovered.

 

“That’s where you’d be wrong,” Reyes replied in a matter-of-fact tone.  “Jesse is currently on parole.  That means, per his parole officer, even being seen with someone like you could get him into a _shit-load_ of trouble, Mr. Shimada.  I happen to like the guy, and I don’t want to see him go back to prison.  So - you’re going to leave here and not come back.”

 

“That did not stop my brother from coming here,” came the patient reply.

 

“Your brother was a different story.  We weren’t aware of his familial connections.  Apparently, he didn’t like talking about any of you all that much.  Can't imagine why.”  Jesse silently cheered his boss for the slight dig.  Yeah, Genji hadn’t been a fan of his family.  That much had always been obvious.

 

Reyes was still talking.  “If we’d known, he would’ve been asked to leave, too.  It’s nothing personal.  I just happen to like my employees in front of the bars instead of behind them.”

 

There was silence for a second, and Jesse wished he could look out and see Hanzo’s expression.  Finally, the man spoke. “Very well.  Then I will leave.”

 

“You do that.”

 

Jesse didn’t stay to listen to the rest.  He shuffled off upstairs and made the promised call to Morrison - just in case - then waited for Reyes to appear.

 

“Everything go alright?” he asked as the older man came into the apartment.

 

His boss snorted.  “You’re good, Jesse, but not that good.  Don’t ask questions you already know the answers to.”

 

Jesse chuckled, and shrugged.  “I was just preparin’ ta be backup in case things went south.”

 

“I’ll bet.”  Reyes grinned, but his expression sobered quickly.  “Do you know why he showed up here?”

 

Jesse winced, deciding it would be better not to lie to his friend.  “I, uh… may have had a run in with ‘im?  'Bout a week ago, when I went to pay my respects ta Genji.”

 

“Fucking hell, Jesse!  Jack told you to…!”

 

“I know what he told me!” Jesse growled back.  “But Genji was my friend and I’ve gotta right to…!”

 

“To what?!  Land yourself back in prison?!  Is that what Genji would want?!”

 

“It was just the once!” Jesse insisted, a hint of pleading in his voice now.  He didn’t want to fight about this… not with Reyes or anyone else.  “C’mon, boss!  I… I cared about the guy.  An I’m tired a’ not bein’ ta grieve right over tha people I lose...”

 

The older man’s expression changed quickly to understanding and he sighed, shaking his head.  “I know… but you have to remember that there’s only so much Jack can shield you from…”  A pause.  “Maybe you should stay here for awhile…?  Just until things die down a little?”

 

Jesse snorted.  “Wha’?  So's I can listen to you an’ Morrison goin’ at it every night?”  He couldn’t help a grin as Reyes’ eye widened.  “C’mon, boss, y’all aren’t all that discreet.  'Sides, it’s fine.  Ya told Shimada off an’ he left.  Let’s just hope that’s the end of it.”

 

Reyes opened his mouth to argue, but then didn’t.  Instead, he sighed again.  “I don’t like sitting on this, Jesse.  The man’s a danger to you… and he could make things difficult around here if he wanted to.  Do you realize exactly how much power his family has?”

 

The younger man grimaced, hands running through his hair.  “I know.  An’ I’m sorry that it happened how it did… but…”

 

“Don’t,” Reyes interrupted.  “You know I don’t want excuses.  Just… try to be more careful going forward.  If you cross Hanzo Shimada, you cross his family, too...”

 

“An’ that’s not safe for any of us,” Jesse finished, wanting to show his friend that he understood.

 

Reyes nodded.  “If you’re not going to stay, then go home and get some rest.  I don’t need sleep-deprived tattoo artists on my payroll.”

 

Jesse laughed.  “Yeah, customers wouldn’t appreciate that too much, now would they.”  He stood and stretched.  “Catch ya tomorrow, boss.”

 

He was almost out the door when Reyes called out, “Jesse...!  Whatever comes next… you know I’ve got your back, right?”

 

“‘Course I do… and thanks, boss.”  Then he was gone - down the stairs and headed out onto the street for home.

 

The walk was short, as it always was.  Jesse had planned for that when he found the place.  Just a little one room apartment; he couldn’t afford anything more.  It was close to work, and close to Morrison’s place, so the location just made sense.  At nearly 11 pm the street crowds had thinned out to little more than a meandering couple here or there.  Not that the dark, empty streets bothered Jesse much.  He’d grown up in places far worse than this.  Besides, you’d have to be pretty stupid (or pretty wasted) to go after a guy who looked like he did - tall, tattooed, and muscled.

 

As he walked, Jesse mulled over what had happened earlier.  The last thing he’d expected was for Hanzo Shimada to show up at his work.  Yeah, alright, he might’ve pissed the guy off enough to earn a track down… but he’d kinda figured he’d be small potatoes to someone like that.  Apparently, he’d been wrong.  Jesse hoped what Reyes had said to the other man would be the end of things.  He didn’t want to cause trouble… not for himself or anyone else.

 

Finally reaching his apartment (a small place situated above a run-down record store - affectionately known by the locals as ‘Junkrat’s’), Jesse took the stairs two at a time and let himself in with a soft sigh of relief.  Being home - hell, _having_ a home - was always a nice feeling.  Turning on the coffee pot, he set it to heat some water and then moved off to the bathroom, stripping as he went.  Today’s unplanned stress demanded a nice, hot shower.  So that’s just what he did.

 

Jesse stayed under the spray until it started to go cold, then hauled himself out with a groan and took his time drying off.  That was when he heard the noise.  It was a small thing - something most people probably wouldn’t’ve even noticed, but he was a man who’d learned to pay attention to the little things while he was in prison.  Because you never knew which ones might mean someone was waiting around a corner to knife you in the back… or worse.  His eyes moved around the small bathroom, settling on the straight razor that Morrison had given him for his birthday last year.  'No guns allowed' didn’t mean no weapons.  That had been Jack’s idea of a compromise… and it would have to do.

 

Securing a towel around his waist as best he could, Jesse flipped the razor out and prepared himself mentally for whatever might be on the other side of the door.  He probably opened it a little slower than he should have for someone who wasn’t supposed to suspect anything.  Maybe that’s how the intruder knew something was up.  Or maybe they realized the second they made the noise?  Who knew.  All Jesse _did_ know was that he’d barely stepped foot out of the bathroom when a hand closed around his wrist.

 

It’s possible words were said, but Jesse didn’t pay attention or think, he just reacted.  Someone was in his home who shouldn’t be.  His goal was to put them down as quickly as possible.  The fact that he hadn't thought to turn on any lights earlier actually worked in his favor.  Though the single bulb from the bathroom illuminated some of the scene, he still had the advantage.  He knew the layout of things, and he was no stranger to fighting in the dark.  With a loud shout, he knocked the intruder back into the kitchen table, moving forward in order to pin them - get the razor to their throat.  But a foot came up fast and hard, kicking his arm away and sending the razor skittering across the floorboards to vanish into the shadows.  Shortly after, he lost the towel too. Damn things just weren’t conducive to lunging around in, were they?  But that didn’t slow him down, and Jesse actually got in a good handful of decent punches, even a couple of kicks.  (Not that he didn't receive a few in return.)  For not being on familiar turf, his assailant was damn good!)  A lamp crashed to the floor shattering, and Jesse found himself forced to split his attention in order too keep his bare feet safe. Then a hard kick to his scarred arm had damaged nerves screaming.  He grunted, but refused to cry out.  Still… it fucking hurt!  Even after all this time…

 

Getting a little desperate to end things, Jesse lunged forward, shoving hard enough to knock his attacker over the couch… and (by the sounds of it) right onto his guitar.  He didn’t play all that well, but it had been the first thing he’d managed to save up for and buy with his own money.  The thing was sentimental.  “Aww, fuck!  Seriously?!”  And that was all the distraction the other needed.  Jesse suddenly found himself flat on his back, being pinned down and straddled by none other than Hanzo Shimada.

 

“YOU?!  What tha HELL is wrong with you?!”  The ex-con exclaimed, arching as he tried unsuccessfully to throw the smaller man off.  Then he remembered a couple of things almost simultaneously.  One - he was buck naked.  And two - Hanzo Shimada was hotter than hell (and looking especially good in that ‘business casual’ style he seemed to like so much.)  Fuck fuck fuck!

 

“Hold still!” the accented voice growled, and almost against his will, Jesse stopped moving.  “There is nothing wrong with me. You attacked without provocation…”

 

“Without provocation?!  You broke into my fuckin’ home.  Wha’ was I supposed ta do?!  Wait until _after_ ya slit my throat?!”  Jesse resisted the urge to keep struggling, then quickly settled on another tactic… one that he hoped wouldn’t backfire on him.  “Y’know, Shimada.  If you wanted ta get me naked on tha floor, all ya had ta do was ask.”  He let the words roll off his tongue, heavy and suggestive.  And it worked!  Hanzo was off of him faster than he’d thought humanly possible.

 

The man kept his distance as Jesse got to his feet.  “Attacking you was not why I came here…”

 

“Oh no?  Coulda fooled me.”

 

“You…!”

 

“I was defendin’ myself!  This dump may not look like much, but it’s my home!  Asshat.”  Jesse moved away to flick on a light switch, making sure to avoid the broken lamp, and then made a beeline for the towel that had fallen off earlier.  A part of him was tempted to stay naked just to make Hanzo uncomfortable, but he didn’t quite trust his own body well enough for that.  Wrapping it around his waist again, he moved back towards the couch, eyes falling on the now-damaged guitar.  “Sonufvabitch...” he growled, scooping the instrument gently up off the floor.  The neck had been snapped, but the break looked clean.  Maybe there was still a chance of fixing it… when he had the extra cash.

 

Suddenly feeling defeated, Jesse sighed and plopped onto the couch, legs spread wide enough that it didn’t really hide all that much.  It kept his bits covered, but the towel’s natural gap fell to either side of his nicely-muscled (and hairy) thigh, leaving very little about his physique to the imagination.  It wasn’t exactly on purpose.  He just didn’t care.  “Tha hell do you want, Shimada?  Aside from trashing my home, I mean.”  He settled the guitar on his coffee table with a slight wince, eyeing it unhappily.

 

“It was not my intention…”

 

“I don’t care what your intention WASN’T,” Jesse spat.  “Tell me why ya felt the need to break into my apartment, attack me, an’ ruin my property!”  He leaned forward, hands on his knees, and growled, “Now!”

 

It might’ve just been wishful thinking, but Jesse could've sworn Hanzo recoiled a little at that.  “Your employer led me to believe that being seen with me would be… detrimental.  I thought it would be better if you were not seen admitting me to your apartment.”

 

“Who’s ta say I woulda let ya in,” Jesse snorted.  

 

That earned him a glare.  A fuckin’ glare!  “Hear me out!”

 

And it wasn’t a request, it was a demand.  Jesse frowned, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest.  “Givin’ orders may work in the world you come from, but they don’t work here, darlin’.  Maybe you should try again.  Or get out.”

 

Another glare.  If he weren't so pissed, this would almost be fun!  And this time… Hanzo’s eyes seemed to wander for just a moment - losing focus on Jesse’s face and traveling down his chest and over his exposed leg.  Hmm… that was interesting. _AND STILL A HUGE NO!_ his brain tried to remind him (not really succeeding.)

 

Hanzo took a deep breath and tried again.  “I would appreciate it if you would take the time to hear what I have to say.”

 

The ex-con grinned and nodded.  “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”  He couldn’t sworn he heard the other man’s teeth grinding together.  “Right-o.  What was SO important you felt the sudden desire to commit not one, but three crimes?”  He waved a hand around the room, and then at the mangled guitar… which Hanzo still hadn’t apologized for, he noted.  Then, because he couldn’t seem to help himself, Jesse smirked and continued, “Are you _sure_ you didn’t just want an excuse to get me naked on tha floor?”

 

He didn’t even get a glare for that one.  Hanzo actually turned his back on him!  “You are impossible!” Hanzo growled.  “ _This_ is impossible!”  Then he suddenly made a beeline for the door.  

 

“Woah, now!  Hold yer horses!”  Jesse stood and grabbed the other’s arm with his tattooed hand.  A bad idea, in hindsight.  Hanzo whirled and brought the edge of his hand down on scarred flesh.  Pain sizzled through him and Jesse bit down on a sharp gasp, letting go and taking a few steps back in case the other man decided he wanted to continue their fight from a few minutes ago.

 

“That… should not have hurt so much,” Hanzo stated in a confused, but matter-of-fact manner.

 

“Yeah?  Well, nerve damage can be a bitch.”

 

Dark eyes narrowed, focusing on Jesse’s tattooed arm, then widened in realization.  “I… did not notice.”

 

“That’s kinda the point,” Jesse replied with a small grin.  Once again, Hanzo’s eyes seemed to linger on his body longer than necessary.  Talk about mixed signals!  “Listen,” Jesse continued, trying to force some reason into his voice.  “If you’ve really got somethin’ ta say… then stay.  I’ll get dressed.  There’s hot water on and I can make us some coffee and we can talk.”  He paused for only a beat, and then continued, “But I’m only doin’ this as a favor to Genji… because I don’ think he’d want me to jus’ kick ya out.”

 

Hanzo stared at Jesse for a moment, as if trying to read something in his face, and then nodded.  “I will take tea, not coffee.”

 

Jesse grunted as he moved away, headed for his closet.  “I used to keep some chai on hand for Genji… probably still have some left.  Check the cabinet over the coffee pot.” The apartment really was just one room with a small bathroom attached.  And since Hanzo had technically already seen everything Jesse had to offer in the ‘body’ department, he didn’t take too much issue with tossing the towel into the washing machine and pulling on clothes in front of his open closet.  Sweats (because he was in his own home, dammit, and he deserved to be comfortable) and a Johnny Cash ‘Folsom Prison’ t-shirt. He turned just in time (maybe?) to see Hanzo look away.

 

Inwardly, the ex-con sighed in resignation.  He wanted to be happy about (possibly) being ogled by a hot guy… but this was such a bad idea… and he knew it.  Just this one meeting with Hanzo could put him back behind bars faster than he could blink. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t just because the man was gorgeous.  That he really _was_ doing a favor for Genji and maybe it would be worth the risk.  But he didn’t quite believe it. Reyes and Morrison would both tell him he was being an idiot - right before they skinned him alive.  But hell… Jesse had never been very good at making smart choices, even when he tried.  Besides... Hanzo was a connection to Genji, and maybe that was something Jesse needed right now.

 

He came out of his thoughts to find the man staring in bemusement at a tea bag.  “Lemme guess… yer a loose leaf kinda guy, am I right?”

 

“It looks like dust!” Hanzo protested, the bag swinging between his fingers.  “Why would my brother drink this?!”

 

Jesse sighed, pulling his damp hair back into a small ponytail.  “Probably 'cause he was polite and didn’ wanna shove my shitty pay scale in my face,” he replied, a little more of a growl in his voice than he’d intended.  “Or maybe he really liked shit tea.  I dunno.  I just drink coffee.”

 

Without further comment, Hanzo dropped the bag into a cup of steaming water he’d poured a moment before, watching with apprehension as the contents began to darken the water.  Jesse moved over next to him and grabbed down another mug before dumping in several hefty spoonfuls of instant coffee.  Then he poured in his own hot water and moved to sit at the small kitchen table.

 

“Alright then, out with it.  Why’re you here, an’ what’s so important you think I’d be willin’ ta risk my freedom for it?”

 

Hanzo’s brow arched in what might’ve been surprise at Jesse’s words.  As if the man had already forgotten just what the ex-con was risking by allowing him to stay.  Silently, he moved to take the seat across from Jesse, perching on the edge of the chair precariously.  Obviously, he wasn’t a fan of aluminum dinettes either. “What I want, is a tattoo.”

 

Jesse snorted.  “And ya just _have_ to get one from me _specifically_?  There are plenty of guys with my skill in New York City.  A good few with even more.  An’ _you_ can afford the best.  Try again.”

 

“Not just _any_ tattoo,” Hanzo insisted, giving the ex-con what he was beginning to consider a ‘signature’ glare.  “You were working on one for my brother.  I have it on good authority that it was only half-finished.  I want the other half.”

 

“Tha other…”  Jesse shook his head - not a ‘no’, just an indication that he didn’t understand.  “You want somethin' inked on yer skin that was meant for someone else?”

 

“I am giving you the opportunity to finish what you started.  Surely, as an artist, that idea appeals to you.”

 

Jesse shrugged and took a swig of his coffee before responding.  “Well… yeah… but not enough ta risk what yer askin’ me ta risk.  ‘Sides… when I do the kind of work that I did for your brother - that design… it was meant for him.  Wouldn’t feel right… puttin’ it on someone else…”

 

“What difference does it make?”  The question held an edge of peevish petulance to it that Jesse refused to ignore.

 

“It makes a difference ta me.  And it’s _my_ work.  I may’ve used the images Genji gave me for influence, but the art is mine, and I’ve got every right ta decide what happens to it now that he’s...”  He tried to keep his voice even, but he was getting angry again. Damn! Why was the guy so _good_ at doing that to him?!  Jesse crossed his arms and gave a glare of his own.  “An’ if you’re wantin’ ta convince me of anythin’, yer doin’ a lousy job.”

 

Hanzo sighed through his nose and then silently sipped at the mug of tea.  A grimace settled on the man’s features and he set the mug down, pushing it away.  Jesse rolled his eyes, but said nothing this time. They both fell into a momentary silence, eventually broken by Hanzo.  “I have told you what I want…”

 

“Yeah, ya have,” Jesse interrupted.  “But ya haven’t told me _why_ …”

 

“I am willing to pay whatever price you ask…”

 

To his own shame, Jesse hesitated at that.  But then he shook his head.  “An’ have my parole officer wonderin’ where it all came from?  Thanks but no thanks.  Besides, money ain't the issue here.”  A beat as the ex-con suddenly realized something.  “How come yer so dead-set against telling me yer reasons?  Ya got something ta hide?”  And then a small rush of panic.  “This some sort of set up?!  I piss you off that much?  You tryin’ ta send me back inside?!”  The last question was a growl.  “Well you listen here, pal, you can jus' get out!  'Cause I’m not gonna…!”

 

“Enough!”  Hanzo slammed his hand down onto the table so hard that both their mugs shifted, jostling tea and coffee onto the plastic surface.  Even Hanzo looked startled by his outburst, and Jesse suddenly had an amusing thought.  Maybe he got to Hanzo in the same way Hanzo got to him.  Before Jesse could say anything, the other man began talking, his voice low and hurried, as if he wanted to get the words out as fast as possible.  “My brother and I have not been close in many years.  His death has led me to re-evaluate many things.  I do not simply _want_ this tattoo; I _need_ it.  As a way to honor Genji in death as I did not honor him in life.  Having his tattoo on my skin will be a reminder of the man I should have been... and the man I still want to be.”

 

Hanzo’s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were almost white.  He didn’t look at Jesse at first, as if his admission alone was a shameful thing.  Then, as the ex-con gaped, those dark eyes came up to stare at him with an expression that held both pride and challenge - like Hanzo expected Jesse to mock the revelation.  But how could he?  Shit - the ex-con understood all too well what it was like to wish he’d been someone different in the past… to wonder about how it might’ve changed things.  How could he deny Hanzo’s own search for atonement?  Even not knowing the guy (aside from the fact that he was occasionally _not_ a dick) this felt more like something he could put his freedom on the line for; it was something he _understood_... and maybe a way for them to both say goodbye to Genji properly.

 

With a slight smirk (because he couldn’t help teasing just the teeniest bit) he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and replied, “Well why the hell didn’ ya say so in the first place.”  It got him the expected glare, and Jesse decided he could really learn to like having that withering look directed at him more often.  “I’ll do it… but I got a few stipulations.  This has to be done my way and by my rules.  You step even a toe outta line after I’ve laid everythin’ out, and I’ll drop ya.  Whether the tattoo’s finished or not.  Got it?”

 

Jesse was given a suspicious look, but Hanzo nodded.  “Tell me,” was his succinct reply.

 

“Everythin’ gets done here.  Nowhere else.  Changin’ my routine might alert Morrison that somethin’s up.  And I want him to stay outta this.  Chances are the guy would lie for me if he thought it would help… but I don’t want ‘im to have to.”

 

Hanzo glanced around Jesse’s less-than-clean apartment in obvious disdain, but merely said, “Understood.”

 

“Right.  Sessions need to be after-hours for me.  Preferably short.  If my sleep patterns start changin’ too much, Reyes’ll notice.  And I don’t need him ridin’ my ass either.  We can maybe have more time on my days off… but it might be better if ya don’t vanish for too long.  In case the people who’re supposed ta be keepin’ an eye on ya start lookin’ a little harder.”

 

“Hm… agreed.”  That hum had sounded… approving?  Was Jesse actually impressing the guy with his self-preservation planning?  There was a surprise.

 

Jesse was sure there was stuff he was forgetting - that would come up later - but for now, he wanted to cover the most important things.  “We’ll also need a secure way ta communicate for settin’ up appointments and stuff.  They’re not tappin’ my phone or anythin’, but yours might be another story…”

 

Hanzo nodded.  “Use the number you already have.  No one but Genji knew it, and it is heavily encrypted.”

 

With a nod, Jesse moved on to the final thing - the one he wasn’t sure Hanzo would agree to.  “This last one… it’s not a deal-breaker, but I want ya to give it consideration before you say no.  Hear me out.”  He didn’t wait for confirmation from Hanzo before continuing.  “I want to alter the design from what I had planned for Genji.”  A frown began to crease the other man’s brow, so Jesse sped up his words.  “Not a lot! Just in some subtle ways.  First, Genji’s tattoo was a green color scheme.  I’d like to alter that. Maybe to…"  His mind flashed on the blue designs in Hanzo’s shirt when they’d met a week ago.  "...blue?  I also wanna change the dragon’s expression.”

 

“Expression?” Hanzo seemed confused.

 

“Yeah.  I designed the expression to be an extension of Genji’s personality.”  In his mind’s eye, Jesse saw the finished work. The dragon was smiling - as if he knew a secret that no one else did and was just daring someone to ask him what it was.  It spoke to his friend’s playful and mischievous nature.  But that _wasn’t_ Hanzo.  “Your dragon should be an extension of _your_ personality.  I can get you some sketches by the end of the week, and the rest of the design will be exactly like your brother’s was, only reversed.  His was on the right side, so we’ll put yours on the left.”

 

Hanzo was silent for long enough that Jesse thought he was going to refuse.  But finally, he said, “Very well.  As the artist, I will defer to you in this decision.  Sketches by the end of the week.”

 

The ex-con was a little surprised, but he nodded.  “You got it.  In the meantime, I suggest ya do some readin’ up on how to take care of yer tattoo as I work on it.  Don’t worry, I’ll cover it all again as we go, but it’s better for you to know things in advance so nothin’ about what ya can and can’t do while it’s healin’ comes as a surprise.”

 

“Understood.”

 

“Good.  Well then, I think that about covers it.”  Jesse grinned and picked up his coffee mug, which was now a bit drippy from the liquid that had spilled out earlier.  He took a gulp and nodded - probably feeling far more pleased with himself than he should be, given what he’d just agreed to.

 

“Is… that all?” Hanzo asked, eyeing him.

 

“‘S’pose so… unless you were wantin’ ta hang around for _other_ reasons…”  He gave the man a wink, entirely unable to resist.

 

“No!” came the sharp reply, and Hanzo stood quickly.

 

Jesse sighed, only partially pretending his disappointment.  “Ah well, can’t blame a guy for tryin’.  In that case, darlin’, you should probably show yourself out whichever way ya came in.”  He was tempted to add ‘Try not to be seen,’ but didn’t.  Hanzo wasn’t a stupid man, and Jesse trusted that (in his particular line of work) he’d learned how to be discreet.

 

Standing himself, he moved to the sink, pouring his coffee down the drain.  When he turned to take Hanzo’s mug from the table… the other man had vanished.  “Huh… I’ll be damned,” he murmured. “Fuckin’ ninja… just like Genji.”

 

It wasn’t until later, when he was sweeping up the lamp, that he realized his guitar was gone.  Jesse’s first reaction was to get angry.  What right did Hanzo have to go making off with his property?!  Immediately he whipped out the phone and scrolled until he found Hanzo’s number. First he saved it in his contacts as ‘Asshat,’ then he sent a text.

 

_[Making off with my property isn’t a good way to kick things off, pal.  Bring it back.]_

 

Eventually he got back a short, cryptic response.

 

_[Asshat: Patience is a virtue.]_

 

Glaring at the message, he typed back,

 

_[The hell does that mean?!]_

 

This time there was no response.

 

Jesse cursed, and tossed things around as he kept cleaning, but what else could he do?  Go storming over to Hanzo’s place and demanding it back?  Yeah.  No.  Was it too much to hope the guy planned to get it fixed?  He did kind of break it after all…

 

_[You could've at least asked first!  Were you raised in a zoo?!]_

 

Because Jesse refused to let Hanzo have the last (silent) word.  There was still no response, so he put the phone down and finished cleaning up the mess their fight had made.  He was beginning to wish he had tomorrow off.  Sleep wasn't going to come easy tonight.  Hell... not that it ever really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who's into this sort of thing, here's a floorplan of Jesse's apartment. I made it to help me visualize things for the fic and thought I'd share. 
> 
> [Floorplan](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PFJtUo9A6oToYbM9L8HdRUi-rlYlww6h/)
> 
> [3D Shot](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1jX1GwE5BvDWDfxsPo6c6vt35TX7QvpG3/)
> 
> It's not labeled or anything, but I guess if anyone has questions/comments about it feel free to hit me up. :) Also, the program I was working with was very limited in a lot of ways, so as far as furniture style, fabrics, etc. are concerned, they're not actual representations of what Jesse's got. As an example, Jesse's TV isn't anywhere NEAR that nice or that big. The program just didn't have any low-quality tech. LOL!


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

  **_~ A Little More Than A Week Later ~_ **

* * *

 

The sketches took a little longer than planned because Jesse decided not to risk working on them while he was in the shop.  When he realized they weren’t going to be finished within the time frame he’d originally promised, he texted Hanzo to let him know.  There was no response.  Maybe the guy’d had a change of heart?  Jesse was a little ashamed to admit how much he didn’t like that thought.  Damn… the last thing he needed to be doing was crushing on his dead friend’s prick of a brother.  Hanzo was probably straighter than an arrow anyway, random looks aside.  And even if he wasn’t, he was next in line to be the head of a _massive_ criminal organization.  Jesse had been there and done that.  Yeah, crime paid, but it always took a chunk out of you in return.  Maybe not right away, but always somewhere down the line.  Even if Hanzo _was_ gay (and interested) and could use his ties to keep Jesse out of prison, that wasn’t the kind of life he wanted to be involved in anymore.  Stuff like that… it had already cost Jesse too much.

 

A few days later, the reworked sketches were finally finished.  The ex-con was proud of the work - enough that he regretted not being able to show them off to Reyes.  Ah, well… maybe one day when he was well and truly free.  He sent a quick text to Hanzo.

 

_[Sketches are done.  Will tonight work? 11?]_

 

He didn’t expect an immediate response and was about to slip his phone back into his pocket when it made a ‘whip crack’ sound indicating a new text.  

 

_[Asshat: I will be there.]_

 

His heart rate sped up.  So… this was still happening.  Fuck.  He really _was_ smarter than this.  He was!  But Jesse couldn’t ignore the fact that his choice still felt like the right thing to do.

 

For the rest of the day he was slightly jumpy.  Reyes even started giving him weird looks about it.  Damn… if this was going to work, he needed to get himself under control!  Maybe he could use the way he’d been acting to his advantage, though?  “Hey… Reyes…?”  

 

The older man paused what he’d been working on and looked up expectantly.

 

“Was wonderin' if ya might loan me some supplies… stuff I could keep at the apartment?

 

Dark brows arched in surprise, but his boss grinned.  “As long as you’re not using them to steal my customers away, flaco, then maybe.  What do you want them for?”

 

Fuck, he hated lying… but this was how it had to be.  “Dual purpose?” he replied.  “Been havin’ a bit a' trouble stayin’ focused lately.  Thought maybe some extra practice at home on some a' that silicone skin stuff might help me get my head back in tha game.  Plus… y’know, inkin’ is kinda zen for me… and I could use a little more a’ that lately…”

 

A softness appeared in the other man’s expression and Reyes gave a quick nod.  “Take what you need.  Just keep a list so I don’t wonder where stuff is going, alright?”

 

Jesse grinned, and nodded.  “You got it, boss.  Thanks.”

 

Reyes moved closer, reaching out to squeeze his friend’s shoulder.  “I know nothing’s been easy for you lately. If I can help this way, then it’s a small price to pay.”

 

Guilt clenched in Jesse’s gut, but he smiled.  “An’ I really ‘preciate it. Think this is gonna help me a lot.”

 

That night, Jesse lugged everything home that was necessary for getting started.  Some things - like antiseptic and lotion and wrappings - he couldn’t take since he’d told Reyes he was working on fake skin.  That was stuff he’d have to purchase online himself.  Once home, he slipped into his sweats and a t-shirt that read, in a old western font, ‘I’m Your Huckleberry.’  Finally feeling comfortable, he considered setting things up, but chances were they wouldn’t start on the tattoo tonight.  Jesse still needed to give the apartment a good scrub down… and figure out the best place for Hanzo to settle while he worked.  It wasn’t like he could bring home one of the chairs from the shop, so they’d have to make do some other way.

 

He’d just set the hot water on when a soft, shuffled step alerted him to Hanzo’s arrival.  One day he was going to get up the nerve to ask the man how he did the whole ‘ninja’ thing.  But not today.  Jesse turned, mouth open to make a snarky comment when he saw what Hanzo was holding and his words stuttered to a stop.  It was a guitar case… [ a _really_ nice-looking one ](https://www.sweetwater.com/store/detail/3i421718--skb-waterproof-acoustic-guitar-case-black).  He took a closer look.  Holy shit!  It was an SKB Dreadnought!  Those things cost over $300!

 

Hanzo held it out.  “I thought, perhaps, if you had something to protect it, there would be less chance of damage in the future.”  Jesse gaped, and then scrambled to recover as he moved to take the offering, putting it almost reverently on the kitchen table.  Not entirely sure what to expect, he flipped the latches and opened it to reveal his guitar, all in one piece, snug and nestled comfy in a red crushed velvet interior.  He shook his head, a little dumbfounded, and closed it back up.

 

Hanzo frowned.  “You do not like it.”

 

“Wha…?  No.  I mean, yeah, yeah I do.  It’s fantastic… but hell… that thing’s probably worth more 'n I am… and it’s definitely worth more than the guitar… Ya didn’t hafta do that…”  The stupid gift was making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and that was the very _last_ thing Jesse needed to be feeling about Hanzo.  In order to recover himself, he did the only thing he could think of - he teased.  “Somethin’ this nice starts ta make a guy think…”

 

“Think what?” Hanzo asked, and Jesse could hear the hesitant annoyance in his clipped tone.

 

“Well… now that the only thing worth protecting in this dump is sealed up nice n’ tight, we could do all the rollin’ around in tha floor we wanted…”

 

Hanzo went rigid… which was all the indication Jesse needed to shut up.  He had to get his stupid, fucking mind out of the gutter because Hanzo was definitely not interested.  “Easy, darlin’,” he said with a chuckle.  “I was kiddin’.”  Mostly.  “Have a seat on the couch an’ I’ll bring the sketches ta look over.  Ya want tea?”

 

Shoulders seeming to relax the slightest bit, Hanzo shook his head.  “If it is the same tea as last time, then no.”

 

“Suit yourself.”  Jesse shrugged, refusing to start that particular argument up again, and walked over to a bookshelf where he kept most of his sketchbooks, large and small.  Pulling out an over-sized one, he made his way over to the couch and plopped down before setting the book on the coffee table and opening it up to the first drawing.

 

Hanzo sat forward, looking over the sketch with what seemed to be actual interest.  After a moment he looked over at Jesse.  “I would like to compare the changes you made.  Do you have your original sketches?”

 

The ex-con gave a nod.  “Sure do. I don’t get rid a’ stuff like that.  Art’s art, y’know?”  Then he stood and went to retrieve another book off the shelf.  It was a little more battered… had a few questionable stains, but Hanzo would just have to deal with it.  Jesse strode back, opened the older sketchbook up and handed it over.

 

“How many of these do you have?” Hanzo asked, with a note of… of what?  Awe, maybe?  Surely not.  Jesse couldn’t imagine being able to do anything that would really impress a guy like Hanzo.

 

“Fair few,” he replied, taking his spot on the couch again.  “Started drawin’ ta pass the time in jail… been doin’ it ever since.”

 

There was a nod of acknowledgement and then Hanzo went back to studying the sketchbooks.  Jesse settled beside him, not too close… but probably closer than absolutely necessary.  He leaned back, watched, and waited.  It was actually interesting… how focused Hanzo seemed to be on the sketches, graceful fingers trailing lightly over the inked designs.  Jesse tried very hard not to imagine those fingers on his skin instead.  It wasn’t easy.

 

“The differences are indeed subtle,” Hanzo finally replied, a note of approval in his voice.  “And the switch to blue was a good choice.”  Suddenly, his fingers stopped, resting lightly over a feature Jesse hadn't been sure he’d notice.  A small sparrow soared alongside the dragon, seeming to dart playfully through the design.  “This is…” Hanzo’s voice seemed to catch and he swallowed softly.  “How did you…?”

 

“Genji mentioned the nickname once in passing,” Jesse said with a shrug.  “Thought it might be fittin' ta include it.”

 

“It is… appropriate,” Hanzo agreed with approval, clearing his throat gently before focusing on the differences in the dragons' expressions.

 

By the time Jesse had sketched Genji’s design almost a year ago, they’d gone clubbing and bar-hopping a few times and he’d had a good feel for the kind of person his friend was.  Not so with Hanzo - which meant Jesse’d had trouble with that part.  All he knew of the man sitting next to him was what he’d experienced - prideful snobbery that he suspected was helped along by an extreme ‘Marie Antoinette’ complex.  But every time he tried to sketch that, the dragon always wound up looking cruel.  And maybe Jesse was being optimistic, but Hanzo didn’t seem like a cruel man.  After all, there were plenty of ways he could’ve ‘convinced’ Jesse to do all of this… and he hadn’t.

 

Despite his negative traits, Hanzo seemed to be a man of honor.  So that was what Jesse had focused on instead - pride tempered by honor.  The result had been a look of something akin to wizened contemplation.  Jesse liked it - maybe because he liked to imagine Hanzo as a man who thought before acting.  Or maybe because he liked the idea that he alone was capable of making Hanzo act _without_ thinking.

 

“Is this… how you see me…?”  

 

Jesse wasn’t exactly prepared for that question.  “Well, I… yeah, guess so?  It’s not like I’ve had a lot of time ta get ta know ya.  Went with my gut.”

 

“Your gut is more - _complimentary_ \- than I expected.”

 

The ex-con inwardly squirmed, suddenly worried that if things continued this way Hanzo might eventually realize that Jesse’s teasing was _more_ than just teasing.  “Don’t go gettin’ a swelled head or nothin’.  Way I see it, you coulda gone about gettin’ my skills in a lot a’ worse ways, but ya didn’t,” he replied, speaking his earlier thoughts out loud.  “That says somethin’... at least it does ta me, so…” He gestured to the final illustration.

 

Hanzo nodded, then silently studied the sketches for awhile longer.  “This is acceptable,” he finally replied, shifting his focus to Jesse.  “When do we begin?”

 

“Well, we could start as soon as tomorrow.  After that, a lot of what we do will probably need to be played by ear.  Everyone’s skin reacts differently to the ink. Ya could heal fast, or real slow.  And our sessions can’t be long, so I’m gonna need to break the design up into manageable pieces.  That shouldn’t be too hard, ‘cause I know how long it takes me to do what I do.”

 

“So we begin tomorrow, and more each day after.”

 

“Well…”  Jesse drawled, voice uncertain.  “I’m a little wary ‘bout turning your visits inta somethin’ patterned or predictable… Don’t get me wrong, the sooner we finish the better.  But I’m gonna err on the side a' caution here.  I need ta play this safe.”

 

Hanzo frowned, but didn’t argue - something Jesse was grateful for.  The man truly seemed to understand and respect how much of a risk the ex-con was taking.  “That’s why we need ta be able ta communicate.  I’ll text on nights that work, and if it works for you, then come.  If it doesn’t, then let me know.”

 

“Would it not be better for me to give no response?”

 

Jesse wasn’t quite able to stop himself from wincing.  “Probably… but…”  He took in a deep breath and let it out through his nose, thinking of his messages to Genji that went unanswered.  “I’d rather hear from ya.”

 

The other man eyed him with an unreadable expression.  “Very well.”

 

A somewhat uncomfortable silence followed and Jesse cleared his throat.  “So… guess that’s it for tonight…”  Which felt wrong to say for some reason.  Maybe because of the guitar case?  Jesse wasn’t sure.

 

“How long do you anticipate this will take?”

 

“Mm… good question, but not one I can answer just yet.  Once I’ve got a better idea of how ya heal, then maybe I can give a guesstimate.  But a lot of it will also depend on how often we can meet safely.”

 

Hanzo had been looking off out the window when Jesse spoke, but his eyes now slid back to look at him, expression once again unreadable.  “What did you do?”

 

The ex-con started at the unexpected question.  But he knew exactly what Hanzo meant without even asking.  They were both thinking the same thing - how much easier this would all be if he weren’t on parole.  It was a personal question... almost too personal, but what the hell… wouldn’t be anything this guy hadn't heard before, right?  “Wasn’t what I did… it’s what I had done to me.”

 

“You are innocent, then?”

 

“Oh, hell no!” Jesse chuckled.  “Well… innocent a’ what I was accused of, yeah, but… I did a helluva lot more they couldn’t pin on me even if they tried.”  He shook his head.  “But that particular job… we got ourselves fucked over nice n’ hard - an I don’t mean in tha fun way - then they threw us out like the trash we were.”  A sneer flickered across his face, but vanished as he sighed.  

 

“We…?”

 

Something churned deep in Jesse’s gut.  “Back then… I was part of a group… a gang.”  Their faces flickered across his vision and he grimaced.  

 

Hanzo misunderstood the ex-con’s show of emotion.  “You are forbidden to see them, also?”

 

A shadow fell across Jesse’s face.  “Y’know… it’s actually a long story… an’ one I don’t usually tell without at least a full bottle a’ fancy liquid courage to back me up.  Maybe we should save it for another night…”  In his head, all he could see were wooden boxes… his friends’ names scrawled on the sides in black sharpie.

 

It wasn’t exactly a dismissal, but that was apparently how Hanzo took it.  The man stood with a nod.  “I will go.  Contact me soon.”

 

Those words almost sounded like an order… but Jesse didn’t rile over it too much.  Hell, Hanzo probably didn’t even realize he was doing it half the time.  Just ingrained in him.  Or so Jesse assumed.  He wondered, as Hanzo left, what it would be like - being in a position like that - heir to a criminal empire.  Not a lot of fun.  Not by his account, at least.  No wonder the guy was so uptight.

 

With a sigh, he rose from the couch and moved back to where the guitar case still rested.  Popping the clasps, he gazed down into the case for a moment before lifting the instrument out and settling it in his hands.  His fingers gave a few tentative strums. A few adjustments were made and he tried again. Yeah… that was more like it.  A song danced at the edges of his memory - one Bob had always favored.  At first he only hummed along with the music, not caring if the words were there, but eventually they poured out.  “I've been somebody my mama didn't raise.  Runnin’ through the nights of my wasted days.  But I guess salvation waits for every man…”  

 

Jesse continued to sing as the night wore on, his mind full of memories.  Dust in his mouth, the hot sun overhead, the sound of grunts as long, wood boxes got lowered into a large hole one after the other.  No… he couldn’t ever be near his friends again. That wasn’t how Hart Island worked.

 

* * *

**_~ Three Days Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse’s apartment was, quite possibly, cleaner than it’d been when he first moved in.  He’d dusted and scrubbed and disinfected every inch of his small space over the last few days.  It didn’t exactly _gleam_ … but it came damn close.  He was actually pretty proud of himself.  Normally, keeping things nice and neat wasn’t worth the effort; he didn’t have people over half as much as he wished he did.  But now that he’d be working here, it needed to be spotless.  

 

Once he was satisfied with the cleanliness of the place, he sent a text to Hanzo.

 

_[If you’ve got a few hours tonight, I’m available any time after 8]_

 

He’d been off today, and had used the time to his advantage.  But now that everything was as clean as he could get it, Jesse wanted a little time to himself before Hanzo showed up… if he showed up.  Jesse started at the sound of a knock at his door. For a split second he entertained the idea that it was Hanzo.  But there was no way.  Besides, showing up here in the daylight… and knocking?  Yeah, no - that wasn’t Hanzo’s style.

 

Jesse opened the door to find Morrison standing there, smiling that casual ‘I’m a good guy’ smile he always seemed to have on.  The officer actually had a key to Jesse’s place… and was within his rights to walk on in, but Morrison had never been one to use his ‘powers’ without good reason.  

 

“Hey, Morrison.  You just in the neighborhood or is somethin’ up?”

 

“A little of both?” the man replied, still smiling.  “Mind if we talk for a bit?”

 

“Uh… yeah, sure.  C’mon in.”  Jesse stepped back to give the officer room to enter and then shut the door behind them as Morrison made his way inside.

 

A low whistle came from the blond man.  “You’ve cleaned!  What’s the occasion?”

 

Inwardly, Jesse winced.  He hadn't thought up a lie for that yet.  _Keep it simple, Jesse,_ his mind whispered at him.  _And don't forget to throw in a little bit of truth._   “Not one, really,” he replied with a chuckle, running a hand back through his hair.  “I just got someone I’d like ta impress a little…”

 

Morrison grinned at him.  “Well this should do the trick.  I’ve never seen this place so clean!  Is it anyone I know?”

 

Jesse knew the questions were more than just questions.  Jack cared, he did - but he was also doing his job.  “Not yet?  Met ‘im at a club, an’ we’ve been out together a coupla times.  Hopin’ ta bring ‘im home soon…”

 

The officer nodded.  “If things start to get serious, would you mind if I met him?”

 

This was a touchy subject.  Morrison knew Jesse didn’t advertise his status as a parolee to just anyone, and although the story was a lie, he appreciated the other’s trust in him - making it a question rather than a demand.  And he felt guilty for it.  “I don’t do serious much these days… but yeah, if it happens, I wouldn’t mind that.”

 

Morrison nodded, still looking around.  “So… Gabe mentioned you’d been having a bit of trouble lately…  Can I assume it has to do with Genji?”

 

A sigh escaped the ex-con, and it sounded wearier than he’d intended.  “Y’know… I don’t care what his las’ name was. Genji was a good guy… you woulda liked ‘im.”

 

“And you miss him.”

 

Jesse didn’t reply, but his shoulders slumped.  “... jus’ tired a’ friends dyin’ on me is all.”

 

Morrison’s face held understanding.  He was one of the few that knew the whole story of Jesse’s past.  “I thought maybe… well, I wanted to offer… the state has people you could talk to, free of charge.  Loss isn’t something that’s interchangeable.  Each time is different.  And maybe talking would…”

 

“No.”  The word was sharper than he’d meant it to be.  “Sorry… talkin’ ta strangers ain’t really my thing.  You know that.”

 

Jack shrugged, grinning a little.  “Wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t offer.  And if you change your mind, I’m just a text away.”

 

“Yeah… I know.  An’ don’t think I’m not grateful for tha concern.  I’m jus’... not sure what I need right now.”

 

“From the look of things, I think you need to invite that guy of yours over and let him appreciate all of your hard work.”  Morrison allowed a playful twinkle to enter his eye as he kept talking.  “If your place looked anything like it did that last time I was here, it must’ve taken you days to get it looking this good.”  

 

Jesse snorted and rolled his eyes, but accepted the teasing for what it was. “Three,” he popped off, sharing the other man’s grin.  “Three fuckin’ days…”

 

“Well, my opinion probably doesn't count for much… but I think your hard work has paid off.”

 

Grin going wider, and unable not to say it, Jesse shot back, “It’ll pay off if it gets me laid.”

 

Morrison let out a bark of laughter, right as the crack of a whip resounded from Jesse’s phone.  “I’ll leave you to get that.  Just keep what I said in mind, alright?”

 

Nodding, Jesse followed the officer to the door.  “Thanks… fer stoppin’ by.”

 

Once out into the hallway, Morrison turned back towards the still-open door.  “Always want to lend a hand where I can.  Take care.”

 

Jesse was closing the door, but at the last minute he opened it up and called to Morrison’s back.  “An’ jus’ so ya know… yer opinions _do_ count… I mean it.”  

 

The parole officer didn’t turn all the way around, just enough for Jesse to see the smile as he nodded, then kept walking.  He wasn’t trying to be a sap about it or anything.  Jesse just worried that there would come a time when Jack Morrison would be forced to question how much of what Jesse said and did was sincere.  It wasn’t about winning brownie points; Jesse just wanted Morrison to know he was doing good work… while his opinion still mattered.

 

Moving back inside, Jesse opened his phone screen.  Hanzo.

 

_[Asshat: Tonight. I will be there no later than 9:30 pm]_

 

With a grin, Jesse typed back a reply.

 

_[I’ll be here.]_

 

He tried not to get too specific about anything in their texts to each other.  Probably from force of habit more than anything else.  When criminal activity was involved, one of the first things you learned was to leave as small of an electronic footprint as you could.

 

With Hanzo’s arrival confirmed, Jesse decided to go ahead on pull out the ‘finishing touches’ of his setup.  First, he covered the couch in plastic sheeting. On top of that he draped an over-sized, deep green, fleece blanket.  Yeah, probably not Hanzo’s style, but Jesse personally loved the feel of fleece against his skin… and he hoped it would keep the crime-boss-to-be from complaining too much about comfort.  Next, he set up a couple of cheap floor lamps he’d bought.  The lighting in his apartment was shit, and he needed it to be good to do his work properly. After that, the coffee table got pushed further away, so there’d be room for the short, rolling stool he’d also bought.  Doing the tattoo on the couch wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the best option… especially since he didn't think Hanzo would agree if he suggested they do everything on the bed.  

 

Mmm… that brought images to mind that definitely didn’t need to be there.  Pushing the pleasant thoughts away, Jesse began setting out all of his supplies.  Yeah, he still had plenty of time, but he wanted to go over it all again - make sure he hadn't forgotten anything he’d need.  Once he’d reassured himself, the ex-con stretched out on his bed with a sketchbook, working on a design for a new tattoo he wanted Reyes to do for him.

 

He’d decided it was high time he made something to honor the people he’d lost in his life; something that would have meaning to him even if no one else knew what it meant.  The tricky part was that he wanted to leave it ‘unfinished.’ You could spend your whole life losing people (he ought to know), and it felt like tempting fate to create a design that couldn’t be added to at some point down the road.  So he sketched, and grumbled, and erased (a lot), and the time passed… twilight settling into darkness.

 

Jesse was so focused on his work that, once again, Hanzo managed to slip inside without him seeing how.  It was the soft shush of a footstep that finally made him look up.  Hanzo was standing in the middle of his apartment with that unreadable expression again.  The ex-con usually prided himself on being able to tell what a person was thinking.  But not this guy.  Maybe that was another reason why he enjoyed riling him up.

 

“Guess I lost track a’ tha time,” he said with a chuckle, abandoning his sketchbook to stand up and greet the other man properly.  “Sorry ‘bout that.”

 

“You seemed very intent on your work.”

 

“Yeah, just a design I’ve been tryin’ ta iron out.  It’ll come together eventually…”  Jesse moved into the kitchen, fixing himself a water bottle.  “You want some water or a soda or anything before we get started?  Also, now’s a good time for a bathroom break before ya get settled.”

 

Hanzo shook his head, glancing around the room.  “No. I am fine.”  A pause.  “Until I saw you on the bed, I thought I’d entered the wrong building.”

 

It was a matter-of-fact statement from the tone, not meant to insult.  Jesse just laughed.  “Yeah, well, we don’t want ya gettin’ some weird infection now do we?  Figured the least I could do was get my place up to a higher standard.”  He turned back to Hanzo and gave the man a wink.  “I can clean up pretty nice when I feel like it.”  Moving to set the bottle on the coffee table by the couch, he continued, “If you’re sure ya don’t need anythin’, go ahead an’ take off yer shirt; get settled.  I tried ta make the couch comfortable for ya.”  As Jesse spoke, he moved to check the windows.  The blinds were already down, but he drew the curtains, too.  Couldn’t be too careful.  When he turned back, it was just in time to watch Hanzo finish unbuttoning his dress shirt.  Jesse’s mouth went dry as fabric almost slithered off of skin, revealing lithe and lean muscles beneath.  (As if he should’ve expected anything less than perfection…)

 

 _OFF LIMITS!_ he screamed at his brain.  What little good it did.  Fuck… these were going to be some really long nights...

 

Taking a deep breath to steady himself (at least mentally) Jesse moved back over to the couch, took a seat on the stool and began gathering what he’d need to start transferring his design onto Hanzo’s skin.  He didn’t think he’d be able to do all of the outlining in the few hours they had.  Which was fine.  It was probably better to do the back, the shoulder, and the arm in separate sessions, anyway.  The back alone might take two sessions just to outline; there was so much more detail in that part.  The arm, too, because of the way it coiled around and around; it was practically a full sleeve once he added in the background details.

 

Trying not to stare as Hanzo settled himself on the couch, Jesse cleared his throat.  “So, uh… unless you've got some tats hidden where I can’t see, I’m gonna assume this is yer first.  Mos’ people like me ta walk ‘em through the process, so’s they know what’s goin’ on…? He inflected his voice a little at the end to indicate it was a question as well as a statement.

 

“I have no preference.  Do what you wish.”

 

Jesse bit down on his immediate response to those words, but couldn’t suppress a lop-sided grin.

 

“You _KNOW_ what I meant,” Hanzo bit back with a growl that did things to Jesse he _really_ needed to ignore.

 

“Easy, darlin’,” he replied with a grin.  “No need ta get riled up.  Even I’m not dumb enough ta go down that road.”  He leaned in a little and lowered his voice, unable to resist at least a little teasing.  “Not even if ya asked me to.”

 

“As if I would!”

 

Ouch.  Not that Jesse had really expected any other response.  “Mm… 'course ya wouldn’t.  Guy like you… don't need ta have anythin’ ta do with a guy like me.  Present circumstances excluded, I guess.”

 

Suppressing a sigh, Jesse took the silence as a reason to get to work.  “First thing I hafta do is get the design onto yer skin.  To do that, I’m gonna shave the area, get it clean, and then put down the transfer paper.”  As he talked, he started to work, assuming if Hanzo had questions he’d speak up.  “The paper gets soaked with a mixture of soap and water, and that transfers the design.  Once it dries, we’re ready to get started.  For t’night, I’m only going to do what I think I’ve got time to outline.”  With the paper now sticking to Hanzo’s back like a second skin, Jesse continued.  “But this first session is kinda important.  It’ll help us judge yer overall endurance, and at our next session we can get a look at how quickly or slowly yer body heals.”

 

Satisfied he’d wetted everything down enough, Jesse began to peel the paper off.  Here and there he paused to dab a little more of the solution on, but eventually a perfect replica of his design adorned Hanzo’s back.  “There we go. Now we give it some time to air dry and then I’ll get started.”  The ex-con decided to keep explaining things since it seemed like he wasn’t going to get anything out of Hanzo.  Ah well - the price he paid for having a dirty mind and being attracted to the damn asshat.  “I’m planning to do all of the line work first. Then I’ll move on to the shaded bits and then I’ll add in the color last.  Uh… I hope it goes without saying that you should try to keep this… hidden?  The design is similar enough to Genji’s that people might… wonder.”

 

“That… could prove difficult,” Hanzo admitted.  “However, I understand and will do what I can.”

 

Jesse relaxed just a little, worried he’d have to argue his case on that point.  “Thanks…”

 

The rest of the evening all went according to plan.  The ex-con got done about what he expected to; an estimate that didn’t surprise him.  Now he just needed to keep any eye on Hanzo’s healing.  Once he had a feel for that, he’d be able to give the man a better estimate of the total number of days and hours needed for the tattoo to be complete.  

 

“Well, I think that wraps us up for the evenin’.  We’ve talked over everythin' ya need to know in regards to aftercare, but if ya have questions, I’m jus’ a text away.  An’ remember - don’t shirk on ANY a’ that stuff.  Yer body don’t care none who yer daddy is, ya got me.  Don’t follow tha rules and it could seriously fuck things up.”

 

As Jesse spoke, he was applying a layer of antibacterial lotion, and he felt Hanzo stiffen at the dig he’d made.  Good.  That’s one for being a prick earlier.  Two could play the ‘snide’ game.  Was it petty of him?  Hell yeah.  But Jesse didn’t really care.  He just kept talking like he hadn’t noticed.  “Now - how'd ya feel about the amount a’ time t’night?  I’m not sayin’ I can finagle more time every session, but it’ll be somethin’ I can keep in mind if ya’ think ya’ can handle more.”

 

Hanzo went stiff again - more noticeable this time.  “I can handle any amount of time required. The sooner this is done the better.”

 

Jesse bristled, but did his best not to rise to the bait.  Instead he simply stated facts.  “You n’ me both.  Don’t be forgettin’ - this is more a risk fer me than it’ll ever be fer you.  I’m not gonna shirk on my art ta make things go quicker or nothin’, but I’ll be just as glad ta see it done an’ over with.”

 

His words were punctuated by the last bits of the bandage being applied.  With a sigh that spoke more of the frustration he was feeling than a job well done than, Jesse stood and stretched, fingers almost brushing the ceiling.  The t-shirt rode up over the low-riding sweats and as he moved to tug it down, he caught Hanzo (who’d turned to sit up) staring at his bare midsection.  Something in his gut churned, and Jesse looked away quickly, pretending he hadn’t noticed.  Because fuckin’ hell, despite his words earlier, Jesse had NO self-control… not when it came to someone _wanting_ him.  If Hanzo ever showed REAL, _prolonged_ interest, he’d cave in five seconds flat.  Jesse figured there was some psychological crap behind that… but he didn’t much care to go digging too deep into the shitstorm that was his head in order to find out.

 

“Well, guess we call it a night, then,” he said, starting to clean up his work area.  “I’ll give ya another text when I got more time…”

 

He felt Hanzo’s eyes on him as he moved over the the bookshelf and began putting things in order.  Jesse let it happen for a bit, but then gave the man a direct stare. “Somethin’ I’m forgettin’?”

 

The other seemed to start, as if he hadn’t realized he was staring… lost in some thought or memory, maybe?  His back went a little straighter.  “No. Nothing. I will go.”

 

The ex-con turned back to make more room on his shelf, and when he turned around again Hanzo had vanished.  Tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding in poured out of him.  Damn… he couldn’t let every session be like that one.  It was too draining for him - always feeling on guard… holding himself in.  He needed to relax… but fuck if that wasn’t easier to do around guys like Genji.  With Hanzo it felt like one wrong move and everything would just… shatter.  He knew some of that was on him.  Despite the physical attraction, there was a lot to dislike about Hanzo.  A helluva lot.  And hiding that dislike wasn’t easy for him.  But sometimes… it felt more like a mask the guy wore.  And damn if he didn’t want to get a peek beneath it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I'm a few hours later than normal getting this chapter to y'all, and I hope it wasn't an inconvenience to anyone. ^_^; I just wanted to touch briefly on the small reveal we've now got about Jesse's past. Hart Island is a real place in New York City. It's an island where people are buried when no one claims the body or when no one has the money to pay for a burial. According to my research, since the late 1860's, over one million people have been buried in mass graves there. The island is a restricted site because, if I understand correctly, all of the mass graves are dug by prisoners from Rikers Island. So, you can't just go out on a boat for a visit whenever you feel like it. Visitors are allowed, but it's a very regulated process, with less than 100 people being able to pay their respects to loved ones each month. You can do a quick Google search (like I did) to read up a little more on the place. I especially liked The Hart Island Project's website: https://www.hartisland.net/


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**_~ Two Days Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse should’ve learned long ago that ‘normal’ days could be deceiving.  It was when everything started to fall into a lull of normalcy that Fate always decided to raise a little hell.  He’d just finished up a simple Celtic knotwork design around a woman's wrist when Morrison walked through the door, bell jangling.  He gave the blond a nod which was barely acknowledged before his parole officer was disappearing into the back.  Huh… that was weird.  A creepy-crawly sensation rippled over his skin and Jesse tried to ignore it as he wrapped things up with his customer.

 

But it came back full force when Aleksandra appeared.  “Jesse… I believe your Mr. Morrison needs a word.  I will finish up with this customer while the two of you talk, da?”  Jesse opened his mouth to protest, but the pink-haired woman cut him off with a shake of her head.  “I do not think you should wait.  He seemed… upset.”

 

Wearing a very obvious frown, Jesse headed back to the employee lounge where Morrison was sitting at the dinette table waiting for him.  “Jesse,” he said in greeting, giving the younger man a nod.

 

“Is… somethin’ wrong?” he asked.  Better to play it safe, wait and see exactly what this was all about.

 

“Why don’t you come have a seat and some coffee and we’ll talk about it.”

 

Coffee?  So Morrison was planning a long talk.  Great.  Not bothering to keep the confusion off his face, the ex-con poured himself a cup from the nearby pot and then took a seat.  “Alright… let’s talk."  Morrison let out a soft sigh, as if he didn’t know exactly where to start and Jesse’s heart plummeted into his stomach.  Shit!  Had he and Hanzo been found out so soon?!  But he didn’t say anything, only took a sip of the coffee and waited.

 

“The friend you mentioned to me a few days ago... how well do you know him?”

 

Jesse blinked, heart hammering.  Play it cool!  “Well enough?  He's part a' my regular crowd.  Known 'im over a year now... maybe more.”  The lie came so easily that Jesse felt guilt churning in his gut.  But this was the way things had to be for now.  Although Jack's questions were still causing an internal panic.

 

“OKay… what about run-ins?  Anyone give you any trouble?  Here at work, or when you’re out?”

 

Jesse hesitated; the guy already knew about Hanzo showing up at the shop... and subsequently, Jesse's visit to the graveyard before that.  Finally, he answered, "Besides what Gabe an' I already told ya 'bout Shimada?  Don't think so."

 

He got a long, hard look from the other man before Morrison nodded.

 

Fuck, he hated this!  “I know I fucked up… I know that.  I just wanted to pay my respects… Is that what this is about?  C’mon, Morrison, throw me a bone, wouldja?”  

 

Fingers drumming on the table, Morrison sighed again.  “I shouldn’t… but…” He looked up at Jesse with something that seemed like concern.  “You’ve apparently caught someone’s attention… they’ve been digging through your files, and we don’t know why.”

 

Jesse started at the revelation.  Was it possible this really WAS Hanzo's doing?  What else made sense?  His fist clenched around his coffee mug as he tried to mask dawning comprehension.  “Well… it’s not like I’m hidin’ anythin’.  Life’s an open book for anyone who bothers ta ask…”  He couldn't quite hide the hint of bitterness in those words.

 

“I know, but it’s got some people worried.  Important people.”

 

“People that could decide whether I stay out or go back in?”

 

Morrison gave a short nod.  

 

“Well, look,” Jesse said, trying to sound reasonable.  “We both know there’s not anythin’ in those files that I could get blackmailed over.  An' nearly all the important people’re dead.  So they can’t use nobody against me, neither.  Not unless they wanted ta go after Gabe… but I’m pretty sure you’ve got that covered."  Jesse smirked at him.

 

The hint of a blush touched the other man’s cheeks.  “Yes... but I’m telling you because I want you to be wary.  The fact that we don’t know who accessed your files or why is… concerning.  While Hanzo Shimada is the most likely candidate, we just don't know.  From here on out, I just want you to be extra aware.  You’ve got sharp eyes, Jesse; put them to good use.  Pay attention to people… and to your surroundings.  I’m going to go over the rule book and see what I can arm you with…”

 

“Woah, there!  Jack!  Jus’ what the hell do you think’s gonna happen?”

 

“Like I said, I don’t know.  I just want to be safe about this, alright?”

 

Jesse nodded.  “Yeah... right.  Don’t worry, hoss, I can take care a’ myself.  Always have.”

 

Morrison gave him a small smile.  “I don't doubt it.  But better to arm yourself with all of the information available, right?"  He stood and pushed his chair in behind him.  Such a boy scout.  “I took the liberty of telling Gabe.  Didn’t think you’d mind.  So don’t be surprised if he wants to walk you home or something after work.”

 

The ex-con laughed and shook his head.  “Thanks for tha warnin’."  Then he waited for Morrison to leave before yanking out his phone, fingers tapping across the screen with ferocity.

 

_[Don’t care what time.  Don’t care if you’re busy.  We talk tonight or everything's off.]_

 

There wasn’t any response to his message, but when Jesse got home from work that night (after convincing Reyes he DIDN’T need an escort) Hanzo was waiting for him.  Probably a bad thing because it didn’t give Jesse any time to try and cool off.

 

“The hell is your problem?!” he growled, barely waiting for the door to be closed and locked behind him before starting in on the other man.  “What part of ‘I’m on parole’ has escaped yer attention?!  Ya can’t jus’ go diggin’ around in my past and expect no one ta notice!”

 

Hanzo stared at him, face impassively cool, which only made Jesse angrier.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Like hell you don’t!  My parole officer showed up at work t’day wantin’ to know if I’d gone an’ pissed someone off.  Said ‘unknown persons’ were rootin’ around in my files!”  Jesse stormed his way over to where Hanzo stood… disappointed when the man made no move to back down from him.  “Yer high profile enough fer tha both of us!  Ya don’t need ta be givin’ ‘em reasons ta keep an eye on me, too!  An' now yer standin' there refusin' ta take responsibility for what ya've done.  What it might cost me!" Jesse reached out to shove Hanzo's shoulder, wanting a reaction.   _Any_ reaction.  But the man was fast, grabbing his wrist in a grip like steel and not letting go.

 

Jesse didn't struggle against it, he only glared down at the shorter man and kept talking.  "I don't take too kindly ta cowards who can't own up to their mistakes," he growled, voice low and dangerous now.  He felt Hanzo's grip tighten when he said 'coward.' It hurt, but Jesse didn't let it show.  "I'm also not fond a' people who're willing ta step on others ta get what they want.  An' if I'd known you were both a' those things when ya came ta me, I would'a sent ya packin' then and there, Genji's brother or not!"

 

“I was not aware anyone would notice…”  Not an apology, but at least an admission.

 

“Tha fact that you’ve got sloppy hackers workin’ for ya ain’t tha point, Shimada!  I ain't goin' back ta jail because you don' know how ta have a normal conversation with someone!  You wanna know somethin' about me?  Ask.  I got nothin' worth hidin'. 'Specially not from _you_."  The last word was spat out and laced with contempt.

 

And to his surprise… Hanzo flinched.  Just barely, but they were standing close enough that Jesse caught it.

 

“I did not think…”

 

“No, ya didn’t.  Least ways, not about anything but yer own damn self!  Jus’ cause I’m willin’ ta take a risk don’t mean ya hafta hand me over on a silver platter!”

 

This time Hanzo didn’t flinch… but he did release Jesse’s wrist.  “I was not trying to cause you trouble…” Jesse opened his mouth to make another snarky remark, but was cut off.  “Let me finish!”  He didn’t speak, but kept glaring. “What’s done is done. I doubt you wish for me to - meddle - further in an attempt to rectify my mistake...  so, please accept my apology, and my assurance that it will not happen again.”

 

The ex-con stepped back, holding his wrist… which would probably be bruised tomorrow.  At least it was the tattooed arm… that should hide most of it from curious eyes. He saw Hanzo’s gaze fall to his hands and immediately let go, dropping both arms to his sides.  Damned if he was going to let the guy know how much that’d hurt.  “I don’t accept.  Not yet, anyways."  He pointed to the couch.  “Sit.  We’re gonna have a talk you n’ me.  I’m gonna get real clear about a couple a’ things.  An’ yer gonna listen or all a’ this ends here an’ now.”

 

There seemed to be several emotions waging an almost imperceptible war across Hanzo’s face, but in the end, he sat without argument.  Jesse went into the kitchen and wished he had something stronger than beer.  Hell… he hadn't eaten yet, so maybe that’d be enough.  He opened three bottles, not asking Hanzo if he wanted any.  The man could drink it or not; he didn’t really care at this point.

 

Grabbing them up, he moved back to the couch, set one of the beers in front of Hanzo, the other within easy reach, and held onto the third.  Then he sat down, taking a long swig.  “Y’know… a good three-quarters a’ the stuff I done ain’t even in those files. My gang… we were damn good at what we did.  But no one stays on top forever… that’s jus’ how it works."  His laugh was haunted and bitter.  “‘Course, I never seen ‘em, but I can guess what they say.  Jus’ another no-account criminal - raised by criminals - surrounded by even more of ‘em.  What else was there ‘cept for me to turn out tha way I did?  Way I see it, my parents didn’t do nothin’ but teach me how ta survive.  An’ that worked out real good for me… and my friends, too… fer a good long while.”

 

Gulping down more of the beer and wishing he felt more numb for what was coming, Jesse continued, “But all good things… etc, etc.  We got caught.  For most people, that’d be end a’ tha road - right there.  But, as I’m sure _you_ know, when yer good at what ya do, deals can get made.  An’ let me tell you, we were offered tha deal of a lifetime.  All charges dropped - not jus’ for the job we got caught doin’, but everythin’ else, too.  All of it… jus’ gone."  An unintentional dreamy quality entered Jesse’s voice as he remembered how exciting that prospect had once been.

 

“Dunno if you’ve read any a’ those files yet, but somethin’ ya should understand is how good we really were.  People’d contact us on tha down-low an’ we’d get the job done.  So I guess the feds… they thought they’d gotten their hands on El Dorado when they nabbed us."  Jesse sighed, shaking his head a little.  “To this day, I couldn’ tell ya what went wrong.  Feels like I’ve gone over it in my head a million times or more.  But the mission all went ta hell faster n’ we could blink.  My guess is the feds had a mole… probably still do… but who knows.  Point is, we failed.  My arm got mangled… and my friends…”  Jesse finished off his beer, eyeing the one Hanzo hadn’t touched, but making no move to reach for it.  He sighed, not feeling nearly buzzed enough for all of this. “They’re buried an’ gone.”  Beer finished, he reached for another, drinking more.

 

For the first time, Hanzo spoke.  “But… you still went to prison. For something else?”

 

Jesse laughed, but the sound was hollow.  “No…”  He stared hard at the other man.  His next words weren’t a challenge (though it might’ve sounded that way); they were a demand for understanding.  “... I went ta prison because a bunch a’ cowards refused ta own up ta their mistakes.”

 

Hanzo looked away first, and Jesse couldn’t deny enjoying how it felt when he did.

 

“Feds blamed me n’ my friends for fuckin’ things up.  Said that made the contract we’d signed null an’ void.  Buncha horse shit, but me bein’ stuck in tha hospital… I didn’t even know what they’d done - the lies they’d told - ‘til it was too late.  So off ta prison I went.”

 

Hanzo still hadn’t looked up, and (as always) Jesse was having trouble reading the other man.  His fists were tightly clenched - white around the knuckles.  In anger?  At him, for ‘daring’ to make the comparison he’d made?  Or was it something else entirely? So Jesse did what he always did when he was unsure… and kept talking.

 

“When I agreed to do yer tattoo, I thought ya understood what was at stake for me.  But your actions… the choices ya made…”

 

He didn’t get to finish.  “I understand now,” Hanzo replied, finally looking back up at him.  “That understanding cannot change the actions of my past… but it can inform the choices in my future.  You placed a level of trust in me that I had not earned… an honor that I repaid by throwing it back in your face.”

 

Jesse was… a little floored.  He glanced again at Hanzo’s beer to make sure he hadn't downed that one, too.  Nope… still there.  So this wasn’t a drunk dream, then?  Yeah, okay, he knew Hanzo wasn’t ALL bad.  He’d seen bits and pieces of it… like repairing his guitar… and all the talk about honoring Genji.  But the guy was still such a dick most of the time… so Jesse hadn't really expected… _this_.

 

Hanzo kept talking.  “I apologize again for my rudeness and lack of understanding.  However, if you no longer wish to continue, I will understand.”

 

The ex-con scrubbed a hand over his face… and then nodded slowly before finishing off his second beer.  “We can keep goin’.  But please don’ make me regret this…”  The words didn’t come out how he’d planned.  His voice sounded tired… like he was on the edge of giving up.  But giving up what?  Even Jesse’s subconscious didn’t seem to have an answer for that one.  Or maybe he was a little more drunk that he’d first thought?  Making the right answers hard to find.  Instead of worrying about it, he eyed Hanzo’s beer for a third time.  “You gonna drink that?”

 

The other man smiled at him - ACTUALLY SMILED?! - and pushed the bottle into Jesse’s outstretched hand.  But he blinked and the expression was gone.  Maybe it’d never been there?  Damn hazy brain… making him imagine impossibilities.  Men like Hanzo Shimada didn’t smile… and they _especially_ didn’t smile at men like him.  Now Hanzo was standing, and a slightly muddled part of Jesse’s brain wanted to tell him not to leave, but he bit it back - more out of confusion than anything else.

 

“I should go,” the man said, moving out of Jesse’s peripheral.  “And you should get some sleep."  A hand squeezed his shoulder - a gesture of… farewell?  Of comfort?  From Hanzo?!  Nope.  He was _definitely_ hallucinating.  When was the last time he ate...?  No wonder the bars kept all of those pretzels and peanuts around… this suddenly felt awful…!  But he kept drinking anyway, finishing off Hanzo’s beer and then going to the fridge for another… and another... and maybe two more?  He just wanted enough to make the faces go fuzzy… to forget how his friends had looked that final night.  Just a little more…

 

… suddenly there were arms wrapping around him… pulling him up.  Hanzo…?  No.  He blinked blearily up into the face of Gabriel Reyes.  “What’re you doin’ here…?” he slurred, trying (and failing) to stand on his own two feet.  

 

“Jesus, Jesse… how much’ve you had?”  It was filled with concern.  Of course it was.  Gabe always looked out for him.  As if realizing he wasn’t going to get an answer to that, the older man answered Jesse’s question instead.  “You texted... and called… several times.  I got worried, so here I am.  C’mon, let’s get you to bed."  They both stumbled along, but fortunately it wasn’t a long walk in Jesse’s small apartment.  “On your stomach… don’t want any unfortunate accidents tonight, do we?”

 

Jesse’s head bobbed in affirmation to his friend’s words, but couldn’t for the life of him remember why being on his stomach mattered so much.  “Stomach,” he agreed. Then, “Sorry for botherin’ you n’ Jack."  

 

Gabe let out a soft huff of laughter.  “We never had you fooled even for a minute did we?”

 

From his bed, the ex-con gave a goofy grin.  “Nope.  Jack’s aftershave… smells nice on both a’ ya’."  

 

The man snorted in disbelief.  "That what gave us away?”  Gabe sat on the side of the bed, paused for a beat, and then said, “He… wanted to come over, too, y’know… but…”

 

“S’ complicated,” came Jesse’s slurred speech.  

 

“Yeah…”

 

A hand ran through his hair.  “Get some sleep, Jesse.  We’ll talk in the morning…”

 

“Don’ wanna talk… jus’ wan’ my friends back…”

 

“I know, flaco… I know…”

 

* * *

**_~ The Next Morning ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse slumped over the dinette table as Reyes moved around his small kitchen with a purpose that probably would’ve worried the younger man… if he hadn’t felt like death warmed over.  The sound of his blender buzzing to life made the ex-con groan and slump further forward until his forehead was resting on the cool, plastic surface.

 

“Wha’ever it is, I ain’t drinkin’ it,” he insisted… or tried to.  It came out more like a muffled mumble.  Fuck…!  He was never drinking alcohol on an empty stomach _ever_ again.

 

“Up and at ‘em!” came Reyes’ voice from above him.

 

Jesse groaned again, but sat back up and stared at the drink that’d been set in front of him.  He opened his mouth to argue - louder this time - but got cut off.

 

“I had to drive halfway across town to find those damn prickly pears.  You’re gonna drink it and at least pretend to like it.  Now."  

 

With a grimace, Jesse took the glass and eyed it warily.  

 

“Drink!” Reyes commanded.  “Or you’re on your own for breakfast.”

 

“Don’t wan’ breakfast either,” he muttered, the idea making his stomach roil in upsetting ways.

 

Reyes came over to the table, looming over Jesse.  “Well, that’s just fine then.  We can talk about what happened last night instead.”

 

The ex-con let out a low groan… and then began guzzling the pureed cacti… which actually wasn’t all that bad.  It seemed to settle his stomach at least…

 

Snorting, Reyes moved away again, over to the stove this time.  Jesse sighed, but knew he’d only bought himself some time.  He’d need answers… and fuck he hated lying to his friend.  But there wasn't any other choice… not right now.

 

It wasn’t long before the smell of breakfast filled the kitchen - huevos rancheros - the first thing Reyes had cooked for him after he got out…  Jesse sniffed softly, eyes stinging.  He still felt like shit… but now for entirely different reasons… or compounded reasons.  Running hands through his hair, he tried to remember the previous night… parts were hazy, but he wasn’t so far gone he didn’t recall what had started it.  Or rather, _who_ .  Fuck… his eyes darted over to where Reyes stood.  But surely if he’d slipped and said anything about Hanzo his friend wouldn’t be acting so calm.  Maybe he got lucky.  Damn lucky.  People with secrets to keep didn’t get that drunk; it was stupid and he knew it.  Jesse needed to start acting smarter… it’d just been a long time since he’d had secrets that _needed_ keeping.  

 

He was still thinking about all the choices that had led him here when a plate was set in front of him.  His stomach didn’t do flip flops at the smell - a good sign.  “Thanks…” he said softly as the man sat down across from him with his own food.  

 

“Been a long time since we had a morning like this…”  He handed Jesse a fork and took a bite of his own food, chewing slowly enough to give Jesse a chance to answer the unspoken question.

 

“Yeah… made a fool a myself las’ night, I imagine...?”  He was trying to make light of it… but Reyes didn’t want to let him, it seemed.

 

“Mmm… I wouldn’t say that.  You had me worried, though… Jack, too.”

 

Jesse grimaced and began eating so he would have an excuse not to respond to anything right away.

 

“We know Genji’s death wasn’t easy for you… and now with someone trying to dig up the past…” 

 

Making a decision, Jesse figured it wouldn’t hurt to let Reyes and Morrison keep thinking all of this stemmed from Genji.  After all… in a way, it did.  Just not in the way they thought.  “I’m not… coping well,” he admitted, voice low.  “It’s been hard, but… I didn’ mean fer things ta get as bad as they did las’ night.  Sorry…”

 

“I’m just glad you called,” Reyes replied, worry obvious in his tone.  “You were further gone than I think I’ve ever seen you.”

 

The younger man winced.  “Yeah… I jus’ got ta thinkin’ ‘bout things…”  He shrugged.  "It was stupid, I know. Shouldn’t a’ happened…”  Another bite of food filled his mouth, and Jesse took the time to enjoy it.  

 

“And…?”  Reyes prompted.

 

“An’...?”  Jesse repeated, voice muffled by his food.  He swallowed.  “And… I won’t do it again?”

 

That earned him an eyeroll.  “You could at least try to sound convincing, McCree.”

 

The younger man grinned.  “C’mon - you know me.  I get this wasted once in a blue moon.  I’m good, Reyes.  Promise.”

 

“That’s not the promise I want from you.”

 

Jesse looked across the table, staring at his friend in confusion.

 

“I don’t want you becoming a statistic, y’hear me?”

 

“Reyes…”

 

“No - hear me out.  You’ve still got a long life ahead of you.  I read the papers, hear the stories about guys who carry their prison sentences with them long after they’ve got their freedom…”

 

“I ain’t gonna let that happen,” Jesse swore, his voice taking on an edge of seriousness now.  “Bastards already took too much. They can’t have this part a’ me, too."  They were words that Jesse had to tell himself less often these days… but he knew what Reyes meant… what he was worried about.  Jesse gazed at his friend across the table, then looked down at his food, sighing.  “Ya think I need a shrink.  You n’ Morrison both…”

 

“You’ve lost a lot, Jesse… more than most people your age.  It wouldn't hurt to talk to someone.”

 

“Tellin’ someone else my problems ain’t gonna solve 'em,” he insisted.  “I’m not gonna be anybody’s statistic. That’s a promise.  I mean it, Gabe.”

 

“Alright.  I’ll leave it alone.  Just… keep calling me if you have to.  That’s all I ask.”

 

Jesse grinned, then nodded down to his almost empty plate.  “Hell, you promise to keep cookin’ for me like this, I might jus’ start monopolizin’ all yer time.”

 

That earned him another eyeroll as Reyes stood and started cleaning up.  “Why don’t you take the day off.  Get some extra sleep, maybe?  Things always look better after you’ve let your brain muddle through your issues via some REM.”

 

“Got my doubts about that,” Jesse replied with a soft snort.  “But yeah… still don’t feel quite woke up anyway…” he yawned as Reyes took his plate.  

 

“Go back to bed.  I’ll let myself out, and see you first thing tomorrow, alright?”

 

Nodding, the younger man stood and moved back over to the bed, practically falling into it.  “Thanks…” was the last thing he really remembered saying before sleep took him… a little more gently this time.

 

* * *

**_~ Later ~_ **

* * *

 

When Jesse woke again it was dark in his apartment.  Had he really slept the whole day away?  That was gonna suck for his schedule.  And… was it darker than it should be…?  Wasn’t there normally a street light on outside that window?  He was about to get up and go check when a shuffled footstep caught his attention.  Someone was here!

 

“Reyes… that you?”  Yeah, so calling out maybe wasn’t the best thing to do, but…

 

One of the lamps he was using for tattoo lighting flickered on, a form standing in front of it.  

 

Jesse blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the new light source.  “H-hanzo…?”

 

“I decided my apology last night was hardly sufficient,” came that sleek, accented voice that was starting to grow on Jesse  “I have returned to rectify my error.”

 

“To… what now?”  The ex-con’s mind felt a little foggy… Was he still hung over?  “You don’t hafta do nothin’,” he protested, sitting up in the bed.  “We talked. It’s done."  Jesse shook his head, trying to get his eyes to focus.  Why was the light giving him so much trouble?  Everything seemed hazy...

 

As Jesse worried about his eyes, Hanzo strode forward.  “No. It is a matter of honor. I must atone.”

 

Wait… what was the other man wearing…?  Jesse’s mind struggled for the word.  He’d seen Genji in one a couple of times…

 

“A yukata,” Hanzo replied, apparently noticing the ex-con’s gaze.  “Ideal for my needs tonight.”

 

“Your…?”  But Jesse’s question caught in his throat as Hanzo undid the low-riding sash… and revealed himself to be fully naked beneath.

 

The ex-con’s breath caught in his throat.  “Holy Mary, mother a’..." He clipped off his own curse and swallowed.  Hard.  Hanzo was… beautiful… every last _bit_ of him.  “Y-you don’ hafta…”  Alarm klaxons were going off in his brain - trying to remind him what a bad idea sleeping with this man was.

 

“Oh, but I do, Jesse.  You’ve made your desire obvious… and there’s certainly no hiding it _now_."  Eyes settled on his groin… and tented sweatpants.  “I would hardly offer if I did not desire you in return."  Hanzo climbed onto the bed, straddling Jesse before latching his fingers into the band of the other’s pants and tugging them down.

 

Jesse hissed as cool air touched heated flesh and sent a shiver across his skin.  “H-hanzo…!”

 

A warm hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly.  “Yes… just as I imagined.  Perfect."  That last word was almost a purr and the smugness of it had Jesse gasping softly.  

 

Fuck it.  He was already in so deep…  might as well go for the whole nine yards, right.  “If all yer gonna do is tease, ya might as well leave,” Jesse said, a smirk teasing at his lips.

 

Hanzo returned the expression, eyes knowing, then bent down and wrapped those full, beautiful lips around the tip of Jesse’s cock.  Crying out, the ex-con sank back onto his pillow and let that mouth slowly work him over.  He wanted to card a hand through the other’s hair… but was afraid that anything he did might break the spell.  Instead, Jesse clenched at his bedsheets, and tried to watch in the semi-darkness as Hanzo swallowed him down.  The man definitely knew what he was doing, that was for damn sure.  Lips, tongue and even teeth all worked together to build the ex-con up into a lust-fogged frenzy.  He whimpered, he panted, he made soft little gasps of ‘oh god!’.  Once or twice his hips gave an unconscious roll, but Hanzo seemed to anticipate every move Jesse’s body made.  It was too much!  All of it!

 

“Close…!” he warned with a groan.  Hanzo didn’t stop.  He sped up!  “F-fuck!  Not kiddin’, darlin’.  Pull o-off, unless…!”  Even faster now!  Jesse writhed with the pleasure, trying to hold himself back, but it was a lost cause.  Like an arrow finally being released from a bow, his whole body quivered and then his insides snapped, orgasm pulsing through him so strongly that everything faded… and went dark.

 

Jesse awoke with a start, chest heaving, and it took awhile to orient himself.  It was daylight now… or rather, _still_ daylight… and there was no Hanzo.  With a soft groan of comprehension, the ex-con looked down at his now-stained sweatpants.  “Fuck…” he whispered to himself.  “I am so completely screwed…”  The only thing saving him now was the very obvious fact that Hanzo - despite a few wayward glances - would never be interested in someone like him, no matter what his subconscious wanted him to believe.  With a resigned sigh, Jesse rose and stripped, heading for the shower.  Maybe sleep wasn’t such a good idea after all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet y'all thought I'd told a fib about the slow burn thing, didn't you? ;-) Or maybe you saw through to the truth from the beginning? Whichever the case, I hope it was enjoyed. Consider it a small sampling of the things to come. Eventually. LOL!


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**_~ Almost Two Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

  

To his credit, Jesse most definitely wasn’t ignoring Hanzo for the reasons Hanzo probably _thought_ he was being ignored.  The ex-con just figured it might be better if his dream had some time to fade before he saw the guy again.  The only problem with that theory? Jesse had yet to test it. The stoic crime-boss-in-training was now making regular dream appearances, supplying Jesse with more wet dreams and morning wood than he’d dealt with as a teenager.  Yeah, a part of him was enjoying the hell out of it… but if he didn’t contact Hanzo soon, the man was bound to assume the worst. At this rate, he was just going to have to suck it up and hope for the best.

 

He’d been staring at his phone all through breakfast, trying to will himself to pick it up and type the text.  Finally, with the last of his coffee polished off, Jesse started keying in words. He wanted to apologize for the lack of communication, but preferred to keep their potentially traceable messages brief.  So, all he sent the other man was:

 

_[Tonight?  10:30 pm?]_

 

Jesse had barely hit ‘send’ when he got a reply.

 

_[Agreed.]_

 

Short and to the point, just as he’d been.  But the speed of the reply… that actually surprised Jesse a little.  Yeah, it was a small enough thing for him to be reading into, but the ex-con found himself hoping that it meant Hanzo had been worried.

 

The rest of the day was spent with Jesse trying to get those dreams out of his system - or at the very least, normalize them in his brain so that he didn’t embarrass himself when Hanzo showed up that night and stripped off his shirt.  It seemed to be working well enough, and by the time he headed home to get his apartment set up, Jesse was feeling pretty confident about things. He’d just put on some hot water when a soft shush of sound alerted him to the other man’s arrival.

 

Turning, Jesse slipped a casual grin onto his face... one which almost fell off when he got a look at what Hanzo was wearing.  A fucking suit?! Obviously tailor-made to hug Hanzo’s form in all the right places, it sported dark pinstripes with brilliant blue accents that were a perfect compliment to the man’s coloring.  As he stared, Hanzo took off the jacket, draping it carefully over the back of the couch and revealing a vest beneath that contoured perfectly to the other’s form.  Jesse’s mouth went dry and he oh-so-subtly pinched himself on the back of the hand a few times to make sure he was awake and this wasn’t the beginning of another dream.

 

Realizing he’d probably been quiet for too long, the ex-con forced himself to focus.  He had to be cool about this!  Be himself.  Grin still in place, he let it get bigger and added playfulness to his next words.  “Lookit you, Shimada!  Gettin’ all dressed up on account a’ me?  Surely not.  What’s tha occasion?”  Jesse waggled his eyebrows and was rewarded with little more than a bored expression.

 

“I came straight from a business meeting.  There was no time to change.”

 

“Oh…?”  The admission surprised Jesse.  “Ya coulda just said you were gonna be late or suggested a different time.  Don’t mind ya doin’ that.  No skin off my nose.”

 

“Mm.  I will remember for next time.”

 

“Not that I mind ya showin’ up lookin’ all fancy,” Jesse couldn’t resist adding.  “Whatever yer meetin’ was about, I bet ya got what ya wanted outta it.”

 

Hanzo arched a single brow in what seemed like actual curiosity.  “And why would you assume that?”

 

With a flash of actual nerves, Jesse realized he was dipping his toes into dangerous waters.  “Uh, well - I jus’ figure that’s tha kinda getup that makes it hard to say no to whoever’s wearin’ it…”  Because damned if Jesse wouldn’t say yes to just about _anything_ Hanzo asked while walking around in that suit.

 

His comment actually turned Hanzo’s stoic expression into a smug smile for maybe a fraction of a second.  “I _did_ get what I wanted, yes."  He began to undo the buttons on the vest, removing it with a level of grace that didn’t seem possible… and Jesse’s brain suddenly decided that Hanzo was intentionally showing off as each piece of clothing was removed.  A stupid thought.  Hanzo had no reason to do something like that around him…

 

With a hard swallow, Jesse turned back to his hot water and began making himself a cup of coffee.  Normally he’d drink water this late, but…  “I was thinkin’” he called out to Hanzo.  “I don’t work tomorrow, so if ya got the extra time, we could try goin’ a little longer tonight.  Might be good ta get an idea of how much yer body can handle in one go-round…”

 

Hanzo’s voice replied from almost directly behind him, “My body can handle a good deal.”

 

Jesse jumped.  How could he not?  He hadn’t even heard Hanzo move.  As the man stepped up beside him, Jesse was tempted to come back with a smart-ass comment, but bit his tongue.  Despite the fun that could be had with those words, he needed Hanzo to take him seriously about this. “It ain’t a contest or a challenge ta be won.  It’s about not over-taxin’ yer body. There’s no reason ta push things ta try n’ prove yer strong n’ tough. We both know ya got no reason to impress me.  ‘Sides, stressin’ out the body won’t do the tattoo no good. Got me?”

 

He saw the other man giving him a long look out of the corner of his eye.  “Mm… understood.”

 

“Right… so, I’d offer ya tea, but I know how ya feel about that.  Want some water instead?”

 

“For later, perhaps, yes,” Hanzo replied.  There was silence as Jesse moved to pour up a glass from the sink.  Hanzo cleared his throat.  “I would like to take off my slacks for this session.”

 

Jesse almost dropped the glass, and he looked over at his client in obvious shock.  “Sorry… say what now?”

 

The man’s hands smoothed down over the fabric with care.  “They wrinkle easily and doubtless will not be comfortable once you begin working, and if we are to go longer tonight…”

 

“Ah…”  Jesse forced himself to look at them and was proud when his eyes didn’t linger on Hanzo’s groin.  Well… not for too long, anyway.  “Yeah… I see what ya mean.  Guess I can't say no.  But we don’t want ya gettin’ chilled either…”  He hummed absent-mindedly, thinking.  “They won’t fit real well, but why not borrow a pair a' my sweats.  Can’t have ya gettin’ all goose-pimply or nothin’.”

 

Hanzo seemed to be weighing his options, expression unreadable, but eventually he nodded.  “That would be acceptable.”

 

“Right, then - jus’ step inta my closet and grab a pair.  Don’t worry - they're all clean, I promise.”

 

Jesse could’ve sworn he got an eyeroll for that comment, but Hanzo was already moving away from him, so he might’ve imagined it.  “An’ if ya want, ya can put your clothes on tha bed. Probably a little better for ‘em than tha couch.”

 

The answer to that was a grunt of acknowledgement.  Jesse tried to avert his eyes as he shuffled around the apartment, finalizing things… but he’d never been good at resisting temptation.  His gaze rested on the other man just as Hanzo was pulling dark blue sweat pants up over a pair of black boxer briefs.  Mmmm… If he were a superstitious man, the ex-con would think someone or something was conspiring against him right now.  Fortunately, real-life Hanzo wasn’t the _extreme_ tease that wet dream Hanzo was, so he wasn’t having as much trouble as he’d anticipated… definitely a good thing given how tonight had gone so far.

 

Taking a seat on his stool, Jesse watched as the other man reappeared, tying up the drawstring on the pants.  They were far too long - the ex-con was a good handful of inches taller - and Hanzo had to hike them up as he made his way over.  Jesse tried to busy himself with arranging things on the table, ignoring the warmth that threatened to envelop him as he considered how much he liked seeing the other man in his clothes.

 

Once the suit had been carefully relocated to Jesse’s bed, Hanzo finally settled onto the couch, and the ex-con studied the line art he’d worked on last time.  “That’s healed up real nice.  Ya have someone helpin’ ta keep it medicated and moisturized, I reckon’?  Tell ‘em they’re doin’ a good job.  An’ have ‘em keep at it.  The under layers take a lot longer ta fully heal, so don’t go neglectin’ it now that the upper levels are lookin’ good, alright?”

 

“Of course,” Hanzo murmured.

 

Jesse’s fingers traced lightly over the other’s back, studying his work for a little longer before getting under way (and telling himself he imagined the shiver that rippled across the skin beneath his fingertips.)  He wasn’t sure exactly how far they’d get tonight, which made it difficult to judge how much of the design needed to go onto Hanzo’s skin.  In the end, Jesse decided to base things off of how long _he_ was willing to work.  Once that decision was made, he got started.

 

He didn’t always work in silence.  In fact, that was one of the first things Reyes had taught him how to maneuver around because sometimes clients were chatty and it was good to be able to focus on multiple things at once and still do a good job.  Jesse’s preference was actually to have music or a familiar movie playing in the background, but he didn’t figure Hanzo would be keen on either of those things, so he hadn’t bothered. Still, their first session had been done in silence, so he’d expected the same tonight… but Hanzo surprised him.

 

“Do… you mind if we talk while you work?”

 

“Naw, don’t mind none.  Not if ya feel ya got somthin’ ta say…”

 

“Mm,” Hanzo replied with a soft hum of agreement.  “There are some things that you’ve said… I would like clarification?”

 

To his credit, it sounded more like an actual request than the man’s typical demands, so Jesse decided to humor him.  Continuing his work, he replied, “Can’t promise ta give a straight answer, but I won’t lie neither. So… ask I guess, an’ we’ll see.”

 

Hanzo fell silent for long enough that Jesse thought maybe he’d changed his mind, then he began, “The friends you said you couldn’t see… were you referring to those who died?”

 

That almost made Jesse’s inking hand pause in surprise, but he cleared his throat softly and didn’t falter.  “Don’t beat aroun’ the bush none, do ya?” There wasn’t any anger in his tone; in fact, it was almost teasing.

 

“You did say if I wanted to know things I should ask.”

 

The ex-con chuckled.  “So I did.  Seems like a weird thing ta be askin’… but what the hell…  Yeah, that’s who I was talkin’ ‘bout.”

 

“They’re not interred somewhere local then?”

 

Jesse didn’t understand the point of these questions, and felt himself getting a little irritated.  Why was Hanzo dragging up things that he had to know were painful for him?  What was the point?  Maybe it was a test?  A cold, callous test to try and make Jesse eat his words?  He wasn’t sure… That didn’t really fit with the Hanzo he was getting to know.  But then… how well did Jesse really know the other man at all?  Realizing he’d fallen silent, the ex-con cleared his throat and replied, “They’re all buried out on Hart Island…”

 

“That… is the one run and maintained by the staff and prisoners of Rikers?”

 

“Yeah… ‘fraid so.  Visitation is strict, and a guy like me don’t have much chance a' bein’ allowed ta go…”

 

“I see…”

 

They fell into silence again for awhile, but eventually Hanzo spoke again.  “I... made you feel unwelcome at my brother’s grave…”

 

Jesse wasn’t sure where he’d expected this conversation to go… but this definitely wasn’t it.  “That there might be tha understatement of the year,” he teased, voice sounding rougher than normal… even to his own ears.  

 

“It was a mistake,” Hanzo conceded.  “You are welcome there whenever you wish.”

 

It wasn’t hard to see what Hanzo was doing - to recognize the thoughts that must be running through his mind.  And if Jesse had been doing _anything_ else right then… he probably would’ve let himself tear up.  As it was, he had to quickly blink his emotions into submission in order to continue working.  “Well,” he drawled, trying to keep things light, “S’pose I shouldn’t lie… I woulda gone with or without yer permission…”  Jesse laughed, hoping it would soften what could easily be seen as challenging words.  “But it means a lot that yer offerin’...  so, thanks.”

 

Hanzo snorted, not sounding all that surprised by Jesse’s admission, and continued as if he hadn’t really heard.  “I will even allow you to continue bringing that cheap, terrible sake…”

 

“Cheap?!”  Jesse’s tone was still playful, but also a little indignant.  “I’ll have you know that bottle set me back fifty bucks!  ‘Sides… it was Genji’s favorite…”

 

This time Hanzo laughed a little, his tone uncharacteristically fond.  “My brother was never known for his taste…”

 

That made Jesse laugh, too.  “You ain’t kiddin’.  Remind me sometime an’ I’ll show ya which of my designs I had ta talk ‘im out of.  If he’d’ve gone that route, it’s a fair bet ya never would've asked me ta duplicate it."  He grinned at the memory as lines continued to come to life against Hanzo’s skin.  That particular design had actually just been him having a bit of fun in his sketchbook.  He hadn’t meant for Genji to see it, but damn!  Once the man had set eyes on it, it was near impossible to convince him that Jesse had _much_ better designs to offer.

 

“Next time, perhaps."  And it sounded as if Hanzo might _actually_ be interested!  Jesse wasn’t sure if he was surprised by that or not.  After all, Genji was a subject they both understood… maybe not in the same ways, but Jesse found himself intrigued by the idea of learning about his absent friend through Hanzo’s eyes.

 

They fell back into silence after that.  But it was more comfortable this time… or it felt that way to Jesse.  He kind of hoped that Hanzo felt the same.  As the hours ticked by, the ex-con felt like he was making really good time.  They had just reached the 4 hour mark and he was ahead of where he’d planned to be by now.  Maybe it was partially muscle memory?  After all, in many ways this was a tattoo he’d done before.  Or maybe he just felt more relaxed about everything in general?  It was hard to say.  Regardless, Jesse figured he could go for at least another three hours before stopping.  Genji had never really been good for anything more than three hours at a time, but Hanzo’s staying power was impressive.  He was glad he’d thought to offer the man a longer session tonight.  This was really going to help him plan better for their future meetings.  

 

Another hour came and went… and that was when Jesse noticed things changing.  He’d been doing this long enough to see the signs of a body that was done (and _done)_ with being poked repeatedly by a needle.  Hanzo was beginning to show those signs.  As with any other client, Jesse always tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, however.  Although the signs seemed to be there, he preferred to let them realize for themselves that they were at their limit - mostly so they could more easily recognize it the next time around.  Despite the conversation he’d had with Hanzo earlier, the ex-con suspected he was going to have to end things after they went too far.  However, for the second time that evening, Hanzo surprised him.

 

“I believe,” the man murmured (in a tone that actually sounded tired,) “that we should bring this session to a close.”

 

Jesse didn’t ask questions or poke fun at the statement.  It was one of the ways Reyes had taught him to encourage his clients’ trust.  When they said they were through - even if it came only fifteen minutes after starting - you listened.  No questions asked. “You got it,” came his reply, and the ex-con switched the needle off and began prepping the fresh ink for wrapping.  While he worked, Jesse figured it couldn’t hurt to boost Hanzo’s ego a little - a ‘gift’ for not trying to hold out due to pride.  “Not many people manage to go that long… especially not after a full day a’ doin’ other stuff.  This is really gonna help me figure out a better schedule for us, I think."  There we go - just the right amount of praise for a job well done.  Was it his imagination, or did Hanzo seem to relax a little at the compliments?

 

Once the area was moisturized and protected, Jesse sat back a little and stretched.  His back ached more than expected.  Fuck… was he actually starting to ‘get old?’  Doing a long session without the right furniture probably wasn’t the best idea, but he’d add some extra stretches into his workout routine and hope that was enough.  “Alright, yer good ta get up an’ get dressed,” he told Hanzo, standing and moving to the other side of the coffee table to give the man room to rise.  “I did a lot more work tonight than last time, so don’t expect anything ta feel the same… and don’t expect yer body ta react the same, either.  This one will probably leave ya feelin’ a lot more run down. I know yer a busy guy, but don’t ignore that.  Treat it the same way ya would the flu - extra rest, better eatin’, all that good stuff.”

 

After being given a brief confirmation nod, Jesse watched as Hanzo moved over to the bed and began changing… but quickly averted his eyes.  Instead, he focused on cleaning off the coffee table and putting things away. Struggling to act like he wasn’t ignoring Hanzo completely - like he was totally cool with the hot guy stripping mere feet away - Jesse kept talking.  “An’ if something don’t look or feel right, remember ya can text me; I’ll do what I can ta help.”

 

Hanzo left not long after - in that mysterious way he had of vanishing when Jesse’s back was turned.  The ex-con was seriously starting to believe that there was a secret panel that opened up in one of his walls or something.  On the bed, folded neatly, Hanzo had left Jesse’s sweatpants.  It took barely a minute’s worth of indecision before Jesse did something that he would FOREVER deny if anyone asked him.  He stripped out of the pants he’d been wearing and slid into the ones Hanzo had worn. It was silly… and stupid… and (yeah, okay) maybe a little creepy?  But it wasn’t like he was some stalker or anything… Jesse just… he was dealing with a crush that rivaled _everything_ from his teenage years.  And he wasn’t handling it well.  How could he, when he couldn’t pursue Hanzo the same way he would anyone else?  Ignoring all of the _other_ issues, the guy was a client, and the inevitable rejection would just make everything all awkward afterwards.  Nope.  There was just no easy way to scratch the itch that was Hanzo Shimada.

 

Needless to say, that night Jesse’s dreams were remarkably vivid, and left the ex-con feeling as if he hadn’t really slept at all.  ‘Dream’ Hanzo did things to him…!  Things that Jesse was fairly certain his mind had just made up on the fly because he couldn't recall any of his lovers getting quite so… creative before.  He only hoped that these dreams would help him get it all out of his system.  Soon.

 

* * *

**_~ 8 Days Later ~_ **

* * *

  

“Just a little bit longer, babe,” the red-headed woman crooned, offering her girlfriend an encouraging smile as Jesse worked to finish up the design on her arm.

 

“I couldn’t possibly sit still this long without you here, luv,” the brunette replied, reaching out to squeeze the other woman’s hand.

 

“Not too much more ta go, Lena,” Jesse told her as he worked to add in the last bits of color to her sleeve.  It had been a challenging design, even more so than Genji’s in some ways. Roses and thorns interwoven - red for Lena and white for Emily.  Independently, they were perfect full sleeves, but when the two women held hands, it was designed to look like the artwork criss-crossed between them, creating one seamless image.  Jesse was mighty proud of it, and pleased that they’d chosen him to do the work.  “Ya done real good for these sessions,” he continued.  “Everythin’s gonna be all nice an’ healed just in time for that weddin’ y’all’ve been plannin’.”

 

“Oh!  Which reminds me!”  Emily produced a crisp yellow envelope out of her purse.  “Voila! You’re now officially invited, Jesse McCree!” She waved it around with a grin and then placed the invitation neatly on the table where he kept his supplies.  

 

The ex-con chuckled, sharing her grin, but shook his head.  “Unless ya’ll’ve decided on a change ‘a venue since last time, ya know I’m gonna have ta bow out.  Goin’ outta tha country ain’t gonna be happenin’ anytime soon… but I certainly ‘preciate tha invite."  The women knew about his parole; it wasn’t somethin’ Jesse lied about or tried to keep hidden, after all.  And when you spent a lot of time with two friendly, talkative people, stuff just naturally came up.

 

In the chair, Lena pretended to pout as Jesse put the finishing touches on the design.  “The whole wedding’s themed around the finished tattoos and we can’t even smuggle our artist across the pond to be there!”

 

“Tell ‘ya what,” Jesse teased.  “You’ve got my permission ta photoshop me into any a' the wedding stuff ya want.”

 

“Really?!” Lena gasped, a mischievous glint flickering to life in her eyes.

 

Emily giggled.  “You _do_ realize you’re going to live long enough to regret that offer, don’t you?”

 

The ex-con, who was now treating the tattoo before wrapping it up, looked between the two women with a broad grin.  “Regret?  Naw.  In fact, I look forward to seein’ just how creative the two a’ ya can be." He gave them both a wink… and then looked towards the door as the bell announced someone’s entrance.  Jesse had the typical greeting on the tip of his tongue when he realized it was Morrison.  A small little niggle of worry wormed through him, but he pushed it aside as the blond waved to him and then headed into the back.  Maybe he was just here to visit...? 

 

Not too long after, Reyes appeared… which was Jesse’s cue that Morrison needed to talk.  Damn.

 

“Just remember,” Emily said as he stood.  “You brought this on yourself.”

 

With a grin, Jesse walked with them up to where Reyes waited at the register.  No harm in taking his time.  After all, Morrison hadn’t seemed urgent and his boss didn’t look worried.  He saw Lena and Emily off with multiple hugs after making them promise to post their photoshopped wedding pics all over the internet for the world to see, and then made his way into the back.

 

Morrison was sitting in one of the comfy chairs, nursing a soda and flipping through a magazine, but he put it aside as soon as Jesse joined him.  “Hey, Jesse… I wanted to let you know in person…” Morrison sighed and shook his head, obviously not happy about whatever information he was about to relay.  “Your next parole hearing has a new date. We have to go in next week.”

 

“Huh?  But… it hasn’t been a full twelve months.  Somethin’ wrong?”

 

The older man shrugged, a confused frown on his features.  “I don’t think so? But I’m not sure.  There could be plenty of reasons that have nothing to do with you specifically…”

 

“Orrrr…?” Jesse prompted.

 

“Or it could have to do with the fact that someone was looking into your files a few weeks ago…”

 

Under his breath, the ex-con growled out a curse.  “It’s not like I’ve got any control over shit like that!”

 

“I know,” Morrison agreed.  “And I’ve tried talking to people… to find out more, but…”  

 

With a defeated sigh, Jesse plopped down onto the nearby couch.  “Ya shouldn’t waste yer time. We both know as long as ol’ what’s-’is-face is part a’ tha panel, I ain’t gonna get freedom until it’s pried from his cold, dead hands.”

 

Morrison looked at him sharply.  “Jesse…” There was a hint of warning in the tone.

 

“Cool down, hoss!  I ain’t gonna be the one doin’ tha honors.  I’m just sayin’..."  He shrugged and let out another sigh.  “Ya should spend yer time on people who’ve got a fightin’ chance, that’s all.”

 

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but they both knew it was the truth.  Jesse had pissed off a lot of people on the ‘right’ side of the law.  They’d even accused _HIM_ of being the mole who’d gotten everybody killed that night.  Not that they could ever prove THAT pack of lies!  But it didn’t stop a bunch of people from believing it.

 

“You’ve been a model parolee from day one,” Morrison protested.  “I’m not going to sit back and ignore that… even if the board chooses to.”

 

Jesse tried to keep the bitterness out of his laugh.  It wasn’t directed at the other man… just at his situation in general.  “Anyone ever tell ya yer too good for this work?”

 

Morrison smiled at him… and it looked a little sad.  “Gabe does… all the time.”

 

“You should listen to ‘im.  Not like I wanna lose you or nothin’, but far as I’m concerned you could be doin’ a lot more good somewhere else.”

 

“Maybe so… but I like doing this.”

 

Sighing, Jesse leaned back against the couch and shook his head.  They were both silent for a bit, and then he muttered, “Guess I need ta make sure my suit’s all nice n’ pressed… Any clue on what time I need ta be there?”

 

“WE need to be there,” Morrison corrected.  

 

The ex-con didn’t argue this time.  Jack wasn’t required to come to any of these things.  He did it because he was a good guy… and Jesse could only tease him so much for it.  Because deep down he appreciated the attention… the knowledge that someone on the ‘right’ side of things actually cared.  

 

“I managed to set it up for after you and Gabe have closed up for the night.  Figured you wouldn’t want to reschedule any clients last minute.”

 

“Thanks, Jack… I ‘preciate that.”

 

The other man nodded, his expression solemn.  “Yeah… just sorry I couldn’t do more…”

 

Jesse’s expression was understanding as he stood.  “Ya do what ya can.  Couldn’t ask fer more ‘n that."  Clapping a gentle hand to Morrison’s shoulder, he headed back out into the shop, sigh not as quiet as he meant for it to be.  

 

* * *

**_~ One Week Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse hated these damn hearings.  Maybe they worked for other people, but for him they were nothing but a chance for the board (one member in particular) to point out all of his failings one after the other.  Nothing ever changed, and he was always left feeling like he’d been hung out to dry.  Maybe that was why he decided to have Hanzo come over for another session afterwards.  Tattooing was his oasis; it calmed him in ways that not much else could.  Anticipating the worst, Jesse thought that might be a good way to end his evening - working on some art… and enjoying the view while he did it.  Yeah… a perfect way to de-stress.  

 

The hearing went about how he’d expected… with the added bonus of having one specific member of the board grilling him for an excessive amount of time regarding the shitty hack job one of Hanzo’s minions had attempted a few weeks ago.  The ex-con refused to bite, no matter how demeaning the guy got.  He knew better.  Anything he said would be turned around and used against him.  So Jesse just kept repeating over and over that he didn’t know who was looking into his past or why.  Eventually, even the other board members got tired of the repetition and finally brought the whole grueling process to a close.  In the end, the cancellation of his parole period was denied.  Again.  Big surprise.

 

To his credit, Morrison stayed with him through the entire thing, long after his own testimony had been heard and added to the record - something Jesse was grateful for.  Knowing he had support helped the ex-con stay strong whenever he got the desire to pop off and say something shouldn’t.  Afterwards, their walk to the parking lot was done in comfortable silence - mostly because these walls really _did_ have ears.  Once outside, Jesse thanked the older man for being there, but turned down an offer to grab a bite to eat.

 

“I’m beat, hoss.  These things… they jus’ take it all outta me, y’know?”  Which was partially true.  He _did_ feel worn out… and was hoping he had the perfect remedy waiting for him at home.  “Might take a rain check, though?”

 

Morrison nodded, gave Jesse’s shoulder a quick, apologetic squeeze, and then they parted ways.  The drive home shouldn’t have been a particularly long one.  But a multi-car pile-up had the freeway backed up for miles.  What should've been twenty minutes turned into an hour… and then another… He tried to text Hanzo only to discover his phone battery was completely dead and he’d left the car charger in his gym bag.  “There goes my nice, relaxin’ evenin’,” Jesse grumbled to himself as he crept along.  

 

By the time he actually unlocked the door to his apartment, the ex-con was tired and hungry and although he knew he should plug his phone in so it could charge enough for him to text an apology to Hanzo, all he really wanted was to crash onto his bed and forget the world existed.  And then it didn’t matter because the decision was made for him.  Hanzo rose from the couch, and Jesse was surprised enough to see him there that he could only stand and blink at the other man in confusion for a few seconds.

 

“You… yer still here?”

 

“I am.”

 

The words were cold and clipped and somehow managed to make Jesse feel even worse than he had a moment before.  How could just two little words do that?  He didn’t even know.  Fuck… he didn’t need this.

 

“Wanted ta text,” he mumbled, the excuse sounding weak even to his own ears.  “The hearin’ ran late, an’ then…”

 

“Hearing?”  Hanzo cut him off, tone still sharp, but questioning now.  He saw the man’s eyes focus on his clothes. This most definitely had to be the nicest Hanzo had ever seen him… and maybe Jesse was a little disappointed he didn’t get a reaction… at least not a visible one.  But what else had he expected?  Maybe if he could get himself to sleep he’d get a warmer reception from ‘Dream Hanzo.’  Fuck.  He was starting to sound pathetic even to himself.

 

Moving over to the closet as he removed his jacket, the ex-con started to undress.  He didn’t really want to deal with an obviously upset Hanzo… far too tired for the fight the other man seemed to want.  “Parole hearin’... buncha BS… but over for another year… so that’s a plus, I guess."  If he’d been less tired, Jess might’ve brought up the trouble Hanzo’s stunt a few weeks ago had caused him.  But he wasn’t in the mood for anything except food… or sleep… or… His eyes drifted to the other man almost against his will.

 

Jesse sighed, now stripped down to nothing but his boxers.  "Look… I’m real sorry ‘bout tonight.  But it’d be stupid a’ me ta go messin’ with yer tattoo right now.  Ya really didn’t hafta wait… though I guess if you were doin’ it jus’ ta yell at me… now’s yer chance."  His tired gaze locked onto Hanzo’s as Jesse resigned himself to the other’s anger.

 

They stared at each other, silence falling.  It was Hanzo who broke it. “It… is difficult to remain angry at a man wearing nothing but boxers that say, ‘Giddy up’..."  There might’ve been a slight quirk to his lips as he said it… or maybe that was Jesse’s wishful thinking.

 

Barking out a laugh, Jesse turned back to his closet and reached for a pair of sweats.  “Lemme get dressed.  Ya can yell at me then, right?  Or is the image forever seared into yer brain?”  For a second his vision swam, and Jesse’s hand casually took hold of the door frame to steady himself.  Hanzo - damn him - noticed anyway.

 

“When is the last time you ate?”

 

Too long.  But he didn’t say that.  “Meant to eat sooner… but was stuck on the freeway fer hours.  After gettin’ outta that mess, jus’ wanted ta get home…”  He said all of this still facing the closet, in search of a t-shirt.

 

“I see."  A beat of silence.  “I will be back."  

 

With a frown, Jesse turned to ask Hanzo what the hell he meant… but the man was gone.  Grumbling in confusion, he gave up on his search for a shirt.  Fuck it.  Hanzo had seen him in WAY less before, and it was _his_ apartment.  He could walk around shirtless whenever he damn well pleased.  Instead, he dropped onto the couch, falling asleep almost instantly.  It was his nose that woke him… or his growling stomach… Jesse wasn’t sure which.  Prying his eyes open, he observed Hanzo setting steaming boxes out on his kitchen counter.  His stomach growled again… louder this time.  Whatever it was smelled _really_ good!  “How n’ tha hell did ya find hot food at this hour?!” he asked, getting up to move into the kitchen as his own curiosity got the better of him.

 

“Many people owe my family favors,” Hanzo replied.

 

“I’ll bet…”  Jesse started peering into containers.  The food all looked like something from one of those super fancy restaurants!  His eyes cut over to Hanzo.  “Ya didn’t hafta do this… I coulda jus' slept it off…”

 

He wasn’t sure why, but Hanzo seemed uncomfortable.  “You obviously had a difficult day…”

 

The observation surprised him - mostly because he didn’t think he was someone the other man would bother observing that closely.  Or maybe…?  Jesse chuckled.  “Damn… I must really look like shit right now, huh?”  That had to be it, right?  His bad day must be written all over him - otherwise Hanzo never would've noticed.  He could’ve teased about it… but was too tired even for that.  Deciding on a box that smelled both sweet and spicy, the ex-con grabbed a fork, snagged a beer from the fridge, and then took everything over to the aluminum table.  He sat and then gestured to the empty chairs.  “Might as well join me.  Feel free to grab a beer if ya want one.”

 

A little to his surprise, Hanzo actually selected another box for himself, took a beer and a fork, and then sat across from Jesse at the small table.  They began eating in silence… and the food was just as good as Jesse had expected - probably the best meal he’d had in awhile, to be honest.  He heaved a happy sigh… 

 

“Feeling better?” came the soft question from across the table.  

 

Jesse gave Hanzo a grin and a nod.  “Much.  If yer tryin’ ta lull me into complacency before ya start shoutin’...  mission accomplished.”

 

That earned him a small smirk.  “I have never found it effective to… kick a man when he’s down."  Hanzo hesitated on the last part of his statement, as if unsure that was the right phrasing.  

 

“Lucky me,” Jesse replied, his tone not holding even a trace of sarcasm.  “Don’t blame ya for bein’ pissed though… I imagine ya got too busy a' schedule to jus' waste time sittin’ around my empty apartment.”

 

“Sometimes… it is nice to have no one know where I am,” Hanzo admitted with some seeming hesitation.  “I understand more clearly these days Genji’s desire for such things.

 

“Yeah?”  Jesse was a little surprised to hear the other man speak that way… although maybe it was just to make him feel better about tonight?  Still… one way to test it.  “Well… if ya ever need that… ta feel anonymous fer awhile… feel free ta stop by.  Same rules still apply… can’t make it a habit or nothin’, but…”  He gave a shrug, stuffing more of the food into his mouth.  He was kind of trying to savor it.  No telling when he’d have something this good in his belly again.

 

Hanzo was staring at him now… with an expression that Jesse couldn’t read.  Had his offer been that weird or unexpected?  Or did he have food stuck in his beard…?  “I… will keep that in mind."  The words held an odd note to them, too.  Confusion?  Or was it something else?  Jesse really couldn’t tell… and for some reason, that bothered him more than normal.

 

Needing to maintain some normalcy in the face of perceived awkwardness, Jesse grinned and winked.  “We might jus' be on our way ta becomin’ besties!”

 

That earned him an eyeroll… and made the ex-con snicker.  Still smiling, he took a swig of his beer and eyed the other boxes.  “Don’t suppose one a’ those has dessert?”

 

Jesse thought he caught the hint of a smile as the other man rose and moved back over to the food.  A warmth that he knew he needed to ignore was slowly spreading through him as he watched Hanzo bring over a box filled with pastries.  It was a little scary… just how easily he felt he could get used to this.  Not the food - he didn’t care so much about that, tasty or not.  But Hanzo… being here with no real reason except to **_be_ ** .  Jesse liked that idea **_way_ **too much.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little later than normal getting this one out to y'all today. In fact, in my neck of the woods, it's technically Monday already instead of Sunday, so apologies for my lateness!
> 
> Also, the Japanese music lyrics in this chapter are from the song 'Ue o Muite Arukō' (上を向いて歩こう) - better known in the US as 'Sukiyaki' - and they roughly translate to: "I look up while I walk so the tears won't fall; remembering those spring days, but tonight I'm all alone," and "My heart is filled with sorrow, for tonight I am alone. For tonight I am alone."

* * *

  ** _~ One Month Later ~_ **

* * *

 

After the hearing, things actually kind of got back to normal… or what passed for normal in Jesse’s neck of the woods.  He worked hard, and played just a little harder.  It helped… sometimes.  And his dreams weren’t quite as Hanzo-filled when there was another body in his bed.  He still wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, though.

 

It was the text from Lucio that made things interesting again.

 

_[Luc: Hey man!  Gonna be in town soon.  Low key.  No concerts.  No press.  Have a couple of favors to ask.]_

 

Jesse read it over a couple of times.  He… should probably ask Morrison.  But fuck it.  Lucio didn’t have anything to do with anything.  He wasn’t going to let go of a friend who needed him.

 

_[I’m all yours!  ;) What’cha need?]_

 

_[Luc: Want to talk about a tattoo… and visit Genji.]_

 

Of course he did.  The request didn't surprise him at all.  Lucio deserved closure as much as anyone else.  Belatedly, he realized he’d probably gone too long without texting when Lucio sent another message.

 

_[Luc: It’s important to me.  A tradition thing.  Early morning, Nov.  2?]_

 

And now Jesse got it.  He didn’t know a lot about Brazilian traditions, but he was somewhat familiar with Día de Muertos and its purpose.  No matter what, he’d make sure his friend got to say goodbye properly.  

 

_[Ink’s on me.  Just tell me what ya want.  The rest might be tricky… but I’ll make it happen.]_

 

_[Luc: Knew I could count on you!  :D  Thanks, man!  See you in a day or two to talk designs.]_

 

Jesse was tempted to immediately text Hanzo about Lucio’s request, but stopped himself.  This was important… and a sensitive topic for the both of them.  Better to ask in person… to get an idea of how Hanzo really felt about it.  Not that he was an expert on reading the other man, but as they continued to meet and talk, he thought he was starting to get a better feel for certain aspects of Hanzo’s personality.

 

That evening, he got the chance to bring the topic up after their session.  As Jesse was putting things away he cleared his throat and said, “Hey… you mind hangin’ around for a bit.  Got somethin’ I need ta ask.”

 

Hanzo, who was slipping back into his shirt with a grace that still didn’t look fully human, arched a brow at him in what passed for curiosity.  The man was damn good at masking his emotions behind various shades of indifference.  Probably a good thing for a businessman to have, but it was infuriating for Jesse… even if he was getting better at interpretation.  “I can stay,” was Hanzo’s reply as he finished buttoning up his shirt.

 

“Great… thanks…” Jesse replied as he put the last of his supplies away.  He took a deep breath and then just got right into it.  “So… I got a text from Lucio… he’s, uh… he n’ Genji were… close.  Real close.  If ya catch my drift?”

 

“But I…”  Hanzo bit off whatever he’d been about to say, not quite managing to hide his surprise.

 

The ex-con hadn't been sure how Hanzo would take that - Genji being with a guy - he wasn’t sure how much the man did or didn’t already know.  Hell, he still wasn’t entirely sure where Hanzo fell on the whole sexuality spectrum either.  “But what…?” he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral.

 

Hanzo actually looked away from him… making a pretense of checking the buttons on his cuffs.  “I thought… that _you_ and Genji were…”

 

Realization made Jesse’s eyes go wide, and he couldn’t help the bark of laughter that escaped him.  “Genji n’ me?!  Naw, we were always jus’ friends.  He was with Lucio tha entire time I knew ‘im.”

 

Something passed across Hanzo’s face at those words - an expression Jesse didn’t understand.  It didn’t seem bad, though… so he let it go without comment.  “I… see…”  A pause followed that was just long enough it started to get uncomfortable (at least for Jesse) and then Hanzo broke the feeling.  “What was it you wished to ask?”

 

“Hmm…?  Oh! Yeah - right."  Jesse laughed and ran a hand through his hair nervously.  “Well… he’s Brazilian… an’ he’s comin’ inta town for a few days.  There’s this special holiday they celebrate on November 2nd, where ya honor the people you’ve lost - light candles, take ‘em flowers, an’ stuff.  He, uh… wants ta visit Genji.  I wanted ta ask if it was okay ta take ‘im...?

 

Hanzo tilted his head to the side.  “You are… asking?”  

 

Jesse couldn’t tell if Hanzo was trying to be funny or if the question was a serious one.  “Well… yeah.  It just seemed right ta make it official.  I don’t care much one way or tha other - you know that - but Lucio… don’t want him gettin’ inta trouble on my account, y’know?”

 

Was that the smallest curve of a smile on Hanzo’s lips?  Jesse couldn’t be sure.  “Mm… I see no reason to disallow it.  However, the grave should be clean before you leave."  

 

The ex-con was practically beaming.  “You got it - clean as a whistle.  An’ thanks.  This’ll mean a lot ta Lucio.  Losin’ Genji… an’ not bein’ able ta be here… it wasn’t easy for 'im."  

 

Hanzo only nodded, still not meeting Jesse’s gaze.  “Unless there is something else, I should go.”

 

That felt a bit abrupt to Jesse, and his eyes narrowed curiously at the other man.  Was he upset…?  What part of their conversation had bothered him?  He’d agreed easily enough, so…?  “Actually… one more thing?  All this time… you really thought Genji n’ me were…?”

 

The other man had looked up when Jesse spoke, but now looked away again.

 

Jesse puffed out an awkward laugh.  “You musta thought I was a right jackass… messin’ around with ya like I did right after…”  He trailed off, wishing he’d known Hanzo’s thoughts sooner.  Not that it would’ve made a difference.  Hanzo was still off-limits… even if Jesse’s body (and his subconscious) didn’t like the idea.  “Well… glad we finally got things set ta rights, at least.”

 

“Indeed."  There was something different now in that rich, accented voice… or maybe Jesse just imagined it.  Wanted it to be there.

 

Time for a change of subject.  “You, uh… you wanna meet Lucio?  He’s not in town for long, but I might be able to set somethin' up?  The three of us?  Or jus’ you n’ him?”

 

Hanzo seemed to actually consider the offer before shaking his head no.  “Perhaps some day?  But this visit is meant for Genji.  Let him spend it with my brother.”

 

Jesse grinned at him, the expression beaming.

 

“...What?”

 

“Nothin’ really.  Jus’ knew there was a decent guy hidden in there somewhere, that’s all.  Nice ta’ finally meet ‘im."  Did he imagine the soft flush of red that crept up Hanzo’s neck?  Probably… but it was fun to pretend it’d been there.  “Just a big ol’ softy under all a’ those prickles."  

 

“Do not press your luck, McCree.”

 

The ex-con laughed.  “Easy, darlin’ - ya know I’m jus’ playin’.  ‘Sides, I like yer prickles. They make things...  interestin’.”

 

That, of course, earned him another glare before Hanzo finally took his leave for the evening.

 

* * *

**_~ The Next Day ~_ **

* * *

 

Lucio and Jesse were relaxing comfortably in the well-worn furniture at the back of Reyes’ shop.  It was mostly meant as an employee rest area but today they’d commandeered it so that Lucio could look through the ex-con’s sketchbooks.  Because he wanted something tied to Genji, Jesse had brought all of the books he’d used while working on the initial green dragon design.  He’d just taken a swig of soda when the younger man started to laugh.

 

“This is it, Jesse!  This has to be the one!”

 

Moving over to the couch to see which of the sketches had caught his eye, Jesse nearly spit out his drink when he saw where Lucio’s finger rested.  “Aww… you gotta be kiddin’ me!  You n’ Genji, man!  You got any idea how long it took me ta talk him outta that design?!  Never shoulda drawn tha damn thing!"

 

Lucio was beaming at him.  “C’mon, Jesse!  It’s perfect!  Just scale it down some, and it’ll make a great shoulder tattoo!”

 

The ex-con eyed his own art, examining the stupid, derpy, noodle dragon he’d sketched out.  It was winking and had its tongue sticking out in a sort of ‘blep’ expression as it waved around a little flag that said ‘dishonor’ in Japanese kanji.  “You even know what that flag says?” he teased.  “What’s tattoo rule numero uno?”

 

That earned him a laugh and an eyeroll.  “If you had to talk Genji out of it, then it’s perfect,” Lucio insisted.  He was still grinning from ear to ear… an expression Jesse found he couldn’t say no to.

 

“Damn… if ya want it so bad… then why tha hell not, right?  Bet it’ll have Genji smirkin’ from beyond tha grave.”

 

“You know it!” Lucio replied, laughing now.

 

“Well, let’s get started, then.  I’ll have it fresh and ready ta show off when we go ta pay 'im a visit.”

 

The younger man’s smile got even brighter… but there was a shine to his eyes that wasn’t just about happiness now.  “You really came through for me, y’know?  I won’t forget it.”

 

Jesse waved off the words as he stood and scooped up the book with the sketch in it.  “Jus’ helpin’ out a friend, is all.  Glad ya asked me… an’ glad I was able to do somethin’ ta help.  Now, c’mon - let’s go an’ get started on this thing.”

 

The tattoo… actually came out looking better than Jesse had anticipated.  He always worried about his more comical designs; there was a fine line between the humor and the art, and it was all too easy to let the humor take over when the art should have control.  But this looked good… especially on Lucio’s dark skin. There was a subtleness to it that demanded you take the time to appreciate each aspect in turn. He was glad now that he’d had Genji verify the kanji for him, too.  The artist always tried to be careful about things like that. He didn’t like using symbols from other cultures without context.

 

That night, they went out and partied.  It was Halloween after all, and damned if he couldn’t throw together one of the best ‘cowboy’ costumes this side of the Mississippi.  Their night out was a celebration… and a release.  A way to let go a little before the solemnity to come.  It felt good… to be out with someone rather than by himself.  Yeah, Lucio was just a friend, so it was a little different, but the feeling of not being alone put Jesse at ease in a way he rarely was when he went out bar-hopping on a regular weekend.  He hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed this.  After Genji’s death, he’d sort of left the club scene for awhile; none of it had seemed fun anymore.  But maybe it was time to get back to that more regularly… make a few new friends.  Friends that weren’t just one-night stands.

 

Lucio crashed at his place that night, and they spent most of November 1st vegged out in front of the TV watching old samurai movies.  It was another Genji thing… something he’d introduced them both to.  Jesse had taken some convincing at first… but then he got introduced to Kurosawa’s _The Seven Samurai_ , and it was all downhill from there.  It helped, of course, that one of his favorite westerns, _The Magnificent Seven,_ was based on the Kurosawa flick, but Jesse had learned to appreciate them on their own merit, too.

 

Partied-out and then well-rested, the two men greeted the early morning hours of November 2nd with a sort of serene calm.  Well… almost.  Lucio moved with an energy that Jesse could only describe as nervous.  And hell, he could hardly blame the guy.  The ex-con helped him pack up a duffle full of stuff to take with them, and they had a flower order they were picking up on the way, too.

 

Jesse… brought his guitar.  He had a song he’d been working on…  Genji had told him once it’d been one of his mom’s favorites… and then joked about the stupid name Americans had given it when the song made its way to the states.  Something about not being able to easily pronounce the title, so in one of the worst cases of culture clash _ever_ , they took a sad, beautiful song… and named it after a Japanese hot pot dish.  Anyway, he’d initially been practicing to surprise Genji, but now… well, this was as close as he’d ever to get to impressing his friend.  And he hoped Lucio would like it, too.  

 

It was chilly as as they stepped out of Lucio’s rental car, but nothing a good jacket couldn’t fix.  Bundling up, Jesse led the other man through the graveyard.  He knew the way now - had been back himself several times - and it took less than five minutes to get there.  From that point, he let Lucio take over.  For awhile, the man just stood there, tracing the carved kanji with his fingertips, as if only just now able to accept the truth.  The cry of an owl seemed to break the spell and Lucio began to move, pulling things from the duffel and setting them carefully around the grave. Candles were lit, creating an almost eerie look in contrast to the pre-dawn sky.  Yeah, Jesse could see why it might feel like the veil was thinner in an atmosphere like this one… and he found he liked that feeling.

 

Fleetingly, he thought of his Gran… the only blood family he hadn't minded calling ‘kin.’  Might be nice to pay her grave a visit some day. She’d been good to him… on those occasions when his parents hadn’t had a use for a scrawny kid in their scams.  Most of his childhood memories worth recalling were tied to her and the ranch she’d lived on. Hell, the only Christmases he could remember AT ALL had been at her place - some of his most cherished memories.  Yeah… that might be worth saving up for. A present to himself once his parole was finally over.

 

Pulling out of his thoughts as if stepping through a fog, Jesse found Lucio staring at him with a soft, knowing smile.  “Someone pay you a visit?” the younger man asked.

 

A visit?  And then the ex-con realized what Lucio meant.  When was the last time he’d thought about his grandmother for longer than a minute or two?  Returning the smile, Jesse blinked back a few tears. “Guess she might’ve done,” he replied, voice rough with emotion he didn’t bother to suppress.  Lucio got it, so why pretend?

 

Nodding, the smile still there, his friend asked, “You want more time?  Or are you ready?”

 

Jesse eyed Genji’s grave with appreciation.  It looked like something you’d see in photographs - candles and flowers arranged so that they balanced each other perfectly.  “This is all for you, y’know.  If you’re ready, then so am I.  Damn shame we hafta clean all this up afterwards, though.  Ya did a good job… looks amazin’.”

 

Lucio’s grin got wider.  “Haven’t ever gotten to do it on my own before… so thanks.  And yeah, I’m ready.  Genji used to talk about your voice.  You know that?”

 

Jesse shook his head in surprise.  “Can’t imagine why he would.  I ain’t all that great.  And I’m probably about ta mangle some damn fine Japanese, too…”

 

“Like Genji would’ve minded.”

 

“Yeah… true enough."  Jesse reached for his case and unlocked it, pulling out his guitar.  “Still… whatever Genji mighta said, best ta take it with a grain a’ salt."  He deftly checked his tuning and then strummed his pick over the acoustic’s strings, clearing his throat softly.  His voice was tentative at first, the foreign words feeling clunky despite all of his practice, but eventually it all evened out, the lyrics flowing smoothly into the oncoming sunrise.  “Ue o muite arukō namida ga koborenai youni; omoidasu haruno hi, hitoribocchi no yoru.”

 

His voice wasn’t like the original artist - not by a long shot.  There was a gruffness to it that was uniquely Jesse - probably a permanent side effect of all those damn cigars he’d smoked before going into prison.  But still… maybe it wasn’t so bad?  One verse flowed into another until he finally found himself at the end.  With a soft sniffle, voice rougher now, he finished, “Nakinagara aruku, hitoribocchi no yoru. Hitoribocchi no yoru.”  And then Jesse fell silent, several tears falling softly as he thought of his lost friend… as he thought of all of them.

 

“Not so alone,” Lucio replied, responding to the ending lyrics as he reached out to squeeze Jesse’s shoulder in a comforting gesture.

 

“Not this time,” Jesse replied, noting the tears on the other’s face.  

 

“And for the record,” Lucio continued, “Genji wasn’t messing with me.  You’ve got a damn fine voice, man!”

 

The ex-con flushed, shaking his head.

 

“No!  I mean it!  If you were in Nashville, they’d be scrabbling all over each other to get at you.”

 

“Fame ain’t fer me…” Jesse said with a laugh.  “But thanks. Glad ta know I didn’t destroy the song.”

 

Shaking his head, Lucio laughed, though his eyes still sparkled in that way that only tears could make them do.  “Naw, man.  It was fantastic.  Honest.”

 

Grinning, Jesse moved to place the guitar carefully back into its case.  They sat there together in front of Genji’s grave until the sun was fully up over the horizon.  Mostly they shared stories - things about Genji that the other hadn't been around for.  Tears fell alongside peals of laughter - though they tried to keep their tones hushed out of respect.  Lucio decided it was time to clean up and go when Jesse’s stomach let out a loud rumble.  As promised, they made sure that everything was as it had been before they arrived, and then the two men headed back to Lucio’s car.

 

The ex-con was putting his guitar case into the back seat when he just happened to glance up and notice a long black car with tinted windows parked down the way.  He stared… the vehicle giving him a weird feeling.  Probably those damn windows more than any instinct… but he didn’t like it.

 

“Something wrong?” Lucio asked, noticing Jesse had stopped.

 

“Mm… probably nothin’.  Let’s go get some grub.  I know a diner just a few blocks over that makes the most amazing strawberry banana pancakes."  

 

“Now you’re speaking my language,” the younger man laughed.

 

Jesse gave the mysterious car one final look and then slid into the passenger seat.  “Let’s roll.”

 

* * *

  **_~ Several Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse enjoyed his last day with Lucio, and was sorry to see the younger man go.  They made promises to keep in touch. Not those hollow ones you made to people you only _wanted_ to see once a year, but heartfelt and genuine.  This time spent together had done them both a world of good - or it at least felt that way - and Jesse had every intention of keeping the musician in his life.  Good friends were hard to come by, after all.

 

Things didn’t exactly go back to normal after that.  Hell, there was never anything ‘normal’ about the holiday months.  Morrison always hosted a HUGE Thanksgiving cookout for all of his parolees, current and former.  It was weird… but not bad. Sort of like being part of a massive support group session, only more laid back... and with booze.  Jesse didn’t really mind it half as much as he pretended to… and he suspected Morrison knew his snarky attitude was mostly an act.

 

Only… it wasn’t all an act this time.  They’d all been sharing parole stories - hearings, officers, etc.  No big deal. Jesse didn’t mind airing his own gripes… until one of the other parolees started talking shit at him about his inabliity to convince the board he deserved to be cut loose.  He’d put up with it at first - for Morrison’s sake - and in the spirit of the holiday, returning each comment with snark of his own. But the guy just wouldn’t let up. So Jesse decided to call it a day (as opposed to doing something he’d regret… like punching the asshole’s lights out.)  He could tell Morrison wasn’t happy he was leaving - Reyes either - but Jesse mumbled some lame excuse about making plans with a friend and then headed out.

 

It wasn’t all that early - but it wasn’t late either, so once in his truck, he pulled out his phone and texted Hanzo.

 

_[You're probably busy with family stuff, but if not, I got time today.  Come over whenever.]_

 

Then he put the keys in the ignition and headed home.  His cell chimed just as he made it to the top of the steps, but Jesse didn’t check it.  He figured it was just Hanzo saying he couldn’t do anything today, anyway.  Or Reyes trying to guilt him into going back to the party.

 

Once inside, the ex-con allowed himself to relax.  He needed a beer… but maybe a shower first.  Being outside was something he didn't mind, but getting clean afterwards always left him feeling lighter for some reason.  It was like a reward for a job well done.  Which sounded kinda stupid, but when you spent your formative years working hard - a hot shower at the end of it all was not only a good way to get rid of the day’s grime, but also a nice way to de-stress.

 

Shucking off his clothes and tossing them on the bed, Jesse stepped into the bathroom and proceeded to take a long, hot shower.  It helped to wash away his earlier stress and settle his mind back into some semblance of normalcy.  And hell... it just _felt_ good.  He let the water run until it went from hot to lukewarm to cold.  Only then did Jesse turn off the spigot and step out into the now-chilly bathroom.  Ruffling the towel through his hair just enough to keep it from dripping down onto his shoulders, he then wrapped it around his midsection, stepped out of the bathroom… and came face to face with a disgruntled looking Hanzo.

 

The other’s eyes flicked over him, scowl deepening.  “I _did_ reply to your text.  And yours said ‘whenever.’”

 

Unconsciously, Jesse’s grip on his towel tightened.  “I… uh… didn’t see tha text."  He gave a sheepish smile.  “An’ guess I figured you’d be busy…”

 

“Why would I be?”

 

Jesse went to gesture with his hands, and remembered his grip on the towel at the last minute.  “Y’know… it bein’ Thanksgivin’ n’ all…” He decided it might be wise to get into some clothes and moved past where Hanzo was seated at the dinette and over to his bed and closet.

 

As he dug out something clean, the ex-con heard Hanzo move closer, speaking as he went.  “Despite living here in America, my family is still very… traditional. This holiday is not one we celebrate.”

 

Poking his head out of the closet, Jesse eyed the other curiously as he slipped into a pair of sweats.  “That so?  Huh… makes sense, I guess.  When ya think about it."  He gave Hanzo a lopsided grin.  “Well… sorry fer the wait.  And thanks fer lettin’ me keep my towel this time.”

 

He was rewarded with an eyeroll as the man turned away from him.  Jesse opened his mouth to say more when suddenly there was a knock at the door.  Mouth closing, he took a few steps forward, past Hanzo.  “Who tha hell…?”

 

“Jesse?  You there?  It’s Jack… can we talk?”

 

The sound of Morrison’s voice from the other side of the door sent his heart racing.  “Holy fuck!” he whispered, turning back towards Hanzo, the panic obvious on his face.

 

“There is no need for panic.  Your closet is more than big enough…”

 

Jesse shook his head.  “Naw… you don’t get how these things work.  Morrison means well… but it’s his job ta come in and nose around.  Plus… there was this thing earlier…  if I let 'im in, he could be here for hours...”  Jesse sighed, running a hand through his damp hair.  “I don’t got time ta explain.  Look, the only way outta this is for us ta give Morrison a reason ta go away.”

 

There was another knock on the door.  “Jesse… please don’t make me use my key…”

 

The ex-con cursed.  “Get in tha bed.  Don’t argue, just do it.  Cover up an’ make sure yer face ain’t visible.  Jus’ pretend ta be asleep.  Oh!  An’ rumple tha other side a tha bed."  He wasn’t even looking at Hanzo as he gave instructions, already moving towards the door.  He couldn’t shout out to Morrison… not if he wanted this to work.  Reaching the door, Jesse only opened it enough so that the other man could see his face (and little else in the apartment behind him.)  His voice was a rough whisper as he hissed, “Jeeze, hoss, any louder an’ yer gonna wake my friend.  Can’t this wait?”  He didn’t have to try to put on a nervous air, but hoped Morrison would assume it was for different reasons.

 

“Your… friend?”

 

Jesse took a deep breath, praying that Hanzo had done as requested, and opened the door wider so that Morrison could look past him and to the bed.  He watched Jack’s eyes go wide.  

 

“Oh!  When you said you were meeting someone, I thought…”  His face flushed.  “I thought it was just an excuse to leave.  Akande was giving you a hard time, and…” Morrison shrugged.  “I talked to him… just so you know…”

 

“Ya didn’t hafta do that… it’s fine."  He nodded back towards the bed and put on a sly grin.  “Better than fine…”

 

Morrison laughed… and Jesse felt bad for his deception.  “Obviously.  Alright, well, I just came by to check on you…”  Then the man picked up a bag off the ground that Jesse hadn’t noticed before.  “And to bring you this. You left early, and I know it’s your favorite Thanksgiving dish, so…”

 

Accepting the bag, Jesse caught the distinct smell of pumpkin pie.  “Damn, Jack… ya didn’t hafta…”  

 

The man cut him off with a wave of his hand.  “It doesn’t matter, because I did it anyway.  Now… go and share it with that _friend_ of yours."  Then he gave Jesse a wink and walked away.

 

The ex-con shut the door with a soft laugh and a bemused shake of his head.  One day he’d make it up to the man… somehow.  Moving into the kitchen, he set the bag on the table and then turned to find Hanzo staring at him from the bed.  Although mostly covered, it was obvious he’d at least taken his shirt off and for just a moment Jesse played with the idea in his head that this hadn’t all been for show… that he had Hanzo in his bed - willing and waiting.  

 

Realizing he’d been staring for too long, Jesse did what came naturally.  His face broke into its typical teasing grin, smooth and broad as he opened his mouth to tease.

 

“Do NOT say it."  That disgruntled look was back on Hanzo’s face.

 

“Aww… c’mon?  When else am I gonna get the chance to tease ya about how good ya look bein’ in my bed, huh?   Give a guy a break?”  He pouted melodramatically and batted his lashes in an intentionally exaggerated fashion.

 

Hanzo let out an exasperated sigh.  “Very well… but do not expect a reaction.”

 

Jesse blinked at the other man.  He hadn’t thought Hanzo would actually give him permission.  “I… ah…”

 

Hanzo arched an amused brow at him, looking smug as he lay there, stretched out on Jesse’s bed.  “Somehow… I expected more.”

 

The ex-con flushed… and then gave a wide, winning grin.  “Well, darlin’... I thought I had a lot ta say… but the sight of ya layin’ there just knocked all the words clean outta my head."  He sauntered closer to the bed’s edge, telling himself that this was all just a game.  Even if his parole wasn’t a factor, the other man was out of his league.  And always would be.

 

Hanzo’s gaze was impassive.  Unreadable.  Almost more-so than normal.  And suddenly Jesse felt foolish - like a child being placated.  It made his chest ache in ways he knew it shouldn’t.  Trying to mask the sudden feeling, he gave a hollow laugh and stepped back.  “Seems not gettin’ a reaction takes all the fun outta things.  Guess ya get a reprieve."  He gave the man a wink, trying to go for a casual retreat.  Which might’ve worked, except that Hanzo reached out to grab his wrist.

 

“Wait.”

 

The ex-con was so taken aback by the action that he had trouble processing what had just happened.  In what felt like slow motion, he turned back to stare down at where the other man’s hand wrapped around his scarred wrist.  Something in his chest fluttered, but Jesse batted it away as his eyes watched Hanzo’s thumb slide over damaged flesh.  He swallowed.  Hard.  

 

“Keep holdin’ a guy like that and he’s gonna get tha wrong idea,” Jesse said, unable to keep the confusion out of his voice, despite it being an attempt to lighten… whatever _this_ suddenly was.

 

Hanzo didn’t seem to hear him.  “You… enjoy it.  When I react negatively to your flirtations."  An observation, not a question.  “Why?”

 

Jesse quickly considered his options.  He didn’t know exactly what was happening here.  But _something_ was.  So maybe honesty was the best course to take?  He shrugged, still trying to pretend like this wasn’t all as weird as fuck.  “‘Cause it’s fun.  Ya go around bein’ all stoic an’ hard ta read all tha time.  Can’t tell what yer thinkin’.  But when I tease ya, it gets an obvious reaction.  Usually.”

 

“So… you do not mean any of what you say?”

 

That question surprised Jesse enough that he looked away… down to where Hanzo’s hand was still wrapped around his wrist.  Heart beating fast, his voice was unintentionally softer as he replied, “Darlin’... even if I did, we both know it would be a bad idea."  Jesse punctuated the statement with a breathless laugh, taking the serious edge off his words.  Or trying to.

 

“Indeed…”  Hanzo let go of him.

 

And whatever _had been_ … suddenly wasn’t anymore.  It left Jesse feeling empty… cold.  But also… relieved?  Why?  Still examining that feeling, the ex-con turned again and headed slowly for the kitchen.  He fiddled with the coffee pot, filling it slowly and then turning it on before finally speaking.  " You want somthin’ ta drink before we get started?  Or a slice a’ this pie?  Jack may not look it, but he’s a damn fine cook."  

 

No reply.

 

Jesse turned back around to find his apartment empty.

 

The words, ‘Well, fuck,’ were leaving his mouth as the whipcrack sound on his cell indicated a text.  Picking it up from the kitchen table, he saw a new message from Hanzo beneath the one he’d unintentionally ignored earlier.

 

_[Asshat:  Something came up.  Another time.]_

 

And there was that feeling of relief again.  Relief… and loss.  “Dammit!” Jesse cursed.  With a long sigh, he grabbed a fork out of a drawer, planted himself at the kitchen table, and fished the pie out of the bag.  It was still warm!  Jack was a fucking saint.  Not bothering with slices, Jesse dug in, determined to eat his troubles away… if only for a little while.   


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

  ** _~ Approximately Three Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse liked Christmas.  Not because it was supposed to celebrate the birth of a deity he wasn't sure he believed in, but because of how the holiday season made him feel.  Nearly every Christmas as a kid he’d been dropped off at his Gran’s ranch in New Mexico - had looked forward to it with eager anticipation.  They were some of the best memories he had.  So, religious aspect aside, Jesse went ALL out for Christmas.  Well… as much as he could afford to, at least.  It wasn’t like he had a ton of money to spend, but he decorated his apartment’s front windows with lights and always put up a full-sized, brightly-lit tree.  He also decorated the fire escape out back where he kept his plants and his grill.  He’d even strung lights all over the rooftop, too, decorating the small space as best he could. (Though those usually stayed up year-round because why the hell not, right?)

 

Yeah… Christmas was kind of his ‘thing.’  Jesse also spent ALL YEAR hunting down the perfect presents for everyone.  Never anything too expensive, but always stuff bought with care and consideration.  Even Morrison got something… though he technically wasn’t supposed to accept gifts from his parolees.  Jesse always mailed it ‘anonymously’ to his house.  He was pretty sure the guy knew where the gifts came from and just didn’t say anything.  This year, Jesse only had one gift left to buy and he was drawing a blank.  

 

Hanzo.

 

He never thought he’d be asking himself, ‘What do I buy for a man who has everything?’ and yet here he was… totally stumped.  Granted, it wasn’t like he bought gifts for all of his clients, but Hanzo was… different.  Hell, the whole situation was different.  But he would’ve bought something for Genji… probably those little rock candy things he'd liked so much.  What were those called…?  It had started with a ‘k’...  Not that it mattered.  Those wouldn’t work for Hanzo.  He couldn’t imagine the man popping the candies like pills the way his brother used to do.  Maybe some other kind…?  Something more refined?  He could stop by the shop where Genji had always bought his.  It was in the East Village somewhere, wasn’t it?  Maybe they could help him find something more appropriate.

 

It took him awhile to find the place… Genji had known the location by heart, and he’d always just tagged along, but after a couple of wrong turns, Jesse found himself standing in front of the Chi Snack Shop.  This was it!  Excited, he stepped inside, eyes skimming the shelves in anticipation.  They sold WAY more than just food here, but that didn’t stop Jesse from hoping they’d be able to find him something perfect for Hanzo.  On his way to the counter, he snagged a couple of other tasty-looking things. And there were Genji’s candies!  Konpeito!  Yeah, now he remembered!  Moving up to the counter, the ex-con gave the girl who stood there one of his best smiles as he set down the other items.

 

“Hey there.  Ya mind if I pick yer brain for a bit?  I’m tryin’ ta find the perfect gift for this friend a’ mine.  He’s from a real traditional Japanese background.  I don’t know a lot about likes and dislikes… but I figure everybody likes food, right?”  He flashed her another grin.  “Any chance ya might have somethin’ ya can recommend?

 

The girl pursed her lips in thought as she rang up his other items.  “Well… we’ve got a couple of things I could suggest… but if you really want to get him something special… you might try Minamoto Kitchoan.”

 

Jesse pulled out his phone, typing the name in one-handed as he offered her his debit card.  “Min-a-mo-to…”

 

“K-I-T-C-H-O-A-N,” the girl spelled helpfully.

 

“Thank ya kindly fer that,” he chuckled.  “Never woulda gotten it right.”

 

“My pleasure."  She flashed him a grin and offered over a small bag filled with his purchases.  “And, umm… if you’d like suggestions…?”

 

Jesse nodded, more than willing to take whatever help was offered.  

 

“Well… if you’re not sure what to get, they make these fantastic sampler boxes.  A little more expensive, but there’s always a great selection.”

 

Offering the girl a grateful smile, Jesse tipped his hat towards her.  “Thanks again fer tha help."  Then he held up the bag.  “An’ the snacks.”

 

She giggled as he turned and walked out, and the ex-con hovered by the doorway (no sense in backing up foot traffic) while staring at the GPS on his phone and trying to decide on the best way to get there.

 

_**~~~~~** _

 

Twenty minutes later Jesse walked into a shop that looked so fancy he was sure someone was going to kick him out.  Holding his breath, he waited for a counter clerk to tell him there was some sort of dress code… but no one said anything.  Huh.  Maybe they were used to tourists?  The first few things he set his eyes on made his mouth water (and his pocket book wince.)  Damn.  The girl hadn’t been kidding about the prices.  Still… not everything was super expensive…  And when he finally meandered over to the sampler boxes, he found a few that were in his price range.  

 

He’d only been looking for a few minutes when an employee approached him with a smile.  “Is there something I can help you find today, sir?”

 

Jesse beamed down at her.  “Well, I sure hope so, miss.  Got a friend I’m trying to find a good gift for Christmas.  He’s Japanese and tends ta be real traditional about stuff.  Yer shop was recommended ta me as a good place ta go.  I got a budget… somethin’ under $30, maybe?  And I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be seein’ ‘im.  Probably not until after tha holidays, though… so it needs ta be somethin’ that’ll keep…  I kinda had my eye on one a’ these boxes, maybe?”

 

As he talked, the clerk bobbed her head, obviously listening to his list of requirements.  “Mm, if your friend’s never had any of our confections before, then a sampling of items would be a good choice, I think.  Let me see…”  She gazed at the various boxes, her expression thoughtful.  “Well… this one would be ideal, but it’s a little over your budget… $45 plus tax."  She gave him an apologetic smile.  “But I promise I’m not just saying that to make a sale.  It fits your other requirements perfectly.  A good variety of winter confections, with a shelf life of approximately 30 days.”

 

Eyeing the box she’d pointed to, Jesse looked it over.  He didn’t know a mochi from a senbei, but the selection seemed good, and he _did_ want the food to last until he could get it to Hanzo…  “Well… guess I can afford to splurge a little… Yeah, let’s go with this one, then.”

 

A few minutes later Jesse strode out of the shop hoping he’d managed to find something Hanzo wouldn’t turn up his nose at.  Now the challenge would be finding a good time to give it to him.  On the subway ride home, he mulled over various possibilities.  Hanzo probably had plans for the holidays… or did he?  He hadn’t been celebrating Thanksgiving.  So did he not celebrate Christmas, either?  

 

Jesse was still trying to decide what to do as he walked back into his apartment a couple of hours later.  And still more as he wrapped the package with expert care and settled it under his tree with all the rest.  Morrison’s gift was already in the mail.  His co-workers would get theirs on Christmas Eve Eve (since Reyes closed the shop the day before and after.)  He’d even gotten a little something for his landlords downstairs.  Everything else was taken care of.

 

Which, again, left Hanzo.

 

Christmas Eve was usually reserved for going out to look at lights all around the city.  It was a tradition he and Reyes started after he got out (something to help ease the knowledge that his Gran had passed while he was in prison.)  Sometimes they went alone, and sometimes others got invited, too.  Last year he’d drug Genji along with them and they’d filmed the whole thing to send to Lucio.  This year, Jesse had finally needled his friend into inviting Morrison.  He got why the two men wanted to keep things on the down-low, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still have fun together, right?  They deserved that, didn’t they?  

 

And now his thoughts were getting all side-tracked!  Hell!  It was probably better to just wait until after Christmas was over and done with.  Although… it wasn’t like Jesse had plans for the day of.  Well… not really.  He usually just sat around in his PJs and watched old westerns.  That’s what he and his Gran had done almost every year… and he liked the tradition.  Even if he did it alone these days.

 

With a grumbling sigh, Jesse promised himself he’d figure out the best time to give his gift soon.  But later.  After a nap.

 

* * *

  ** _~ One Week Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Christmas Eve - while not quite the same without Genji - was actually more fun than Jesse expected.  He hadn’t been sure how Reyes and Morrison would be out in public together… but apparently all they’d needed was a little encouragement and understanding.  Once upon a time, Morrison had been Reyes’ parole officer, too.  Which meant, although his friend had been free and clear for years, there was still the possibility people might ask questions about when the relationship began.  It could hurt Morrison’s career… his reputation.  But damn… you wouldn’t have known it to watch as the three of them traipsed around the city.  The two men were happy… and so obviously in love it was a wonder they’d ever managed to hide it from Jesse (or anyone else.)

 

All in all, it was a fantastic evening.  And when Jesse finally got back to his apartment he felt… good.  Turning on all his Christmas lights, but leaving the rest of the apartment dark, he took a moment to appreciate their cheery glow.  Then his eyes settled on Hanzo’s present and he sighed.  Was he putting it off on purpose?  Why?  It wasn’t like they hadn’t spoken since Thanksgiving.  Hanzo’d had a full 5 hour session just a week or so after that.  Everything had seemed fine - or at least mostly fine - so why was he making this gift into such a big deal in his head?  And why now?!  It’d been a great night… and tomorrow would be good, too.  He had a lineup of movies ready to go, and presents from others that he’d waited to open.  Yeah… this would all be great.  If he could just stop thinking for awhile.

 

With everything but the Christmas lights still off, Jesse went to his closet and changed into comfier clothes - a pair of red sweats, green and white striped socks, and an ugly Christmas sweater which read, ‘Give Me All Your Fruit Cake and No One Gets Hurt.’  Feeling suitably festive, he got out his guitar case next.  It really was a shame he had to keep the damn thing hidden.  But there was no way Jesse would be able to explain how he’d ‘got the money’ to buy something so fancy.  

 

Unlatching it on the bed, he carefully took the instrument from its velvet inlay, adjusting the strings as he walked over to the couch and sat himself down close to the tree.  Fingers strummed lightly and a few more adjustments were done.  Then Jesse began to play.  This wasn’t tradition - or not an old one, at any rate.  This was just him… missing the ranch… and his Gran… and wondering ‘what if’ about the choices he’d made in life.  He was no Bing Crosby, but the words for ‘I’ll Be Home for Christmas’ flowed past his lips with open longing.  Not bad… even if he couldn’t get rid of his country twang.  

 

Jesse was just wrapping up the second refrain, when the soft ‘tmp’ of a footfall made him stop and look up.  Hanzo.  A part of him marveled at the fact that he was so used to the other man ‘sneaking’ into his place, that the sight of someone unexpected in his apartment didn’t garner even a flinch.  He should be angry, maybe?  That Hanzo hadn’t texted first?  But… what did it matter if Jesse trusted him?  And he did.  (A realization he'd mull over later.)

 

“Hey,” he said with a slow, lazy grin.  “Was I supposed ta be expectin’ ya tonight?”  It was a playful question, but held a note of real curiosity.

 

“You… were not answering your texts…” came Hanzo’s uncertain reply.  He was giving Jesse one of those indecipherable looks he sometimes got - the kind that made him feel like he had stuff stuck in his beard.  For a second he forgot that Hanzo was probably expecting an answer.

 

Acting on reflex, Jesse set his guitar aside and reached for a phone in his pocket that wasn’t there.  He laughed at himself.  “Left it in my jeans… but I didn’t hear any texts.  Maybe the battery died…?”  As he muttered (mostly to himself), the ex-con stood and strode over to the pile of clothes he’d left by the bed.  Stooping, the phone was retrieved, and Jesse frowned as a press of the power button did nothing.  “Huh… must’ve taken one too many photos t’night."  

 

“Photos?”

 

“Yeah, Reyes n’ I kinda have this tradition of goin’ out ta look at Christmas lights ‘round the city…”  

 

“You… went _out_ dressed like that?”

 

Getting the phone plugged in, Jesse turned to face the other man, realizing for the first time that he held a medium-sized parcel wrapped in brown paper and tied with red twine.  Although curious, the ex-con didn’t comment on it and instead tried to act indignant.  “You got a problem with tha way I’m dressed, Shimada?  Where’s yer Christmas spirit, huh?”

 

To his surprise, Jesse thought he caught the traces of a smile tugging at Hanzo’s lips.  But maybe it was just the way the Christmas lights were blinking around them…?  He squinted and took a small step closer.  No… no, that was definitely the hint of a smile!  “Aha!  See!  You _like_ how I look!” he teased with a grin.  “I can see it!”  

 

“You are wrong,” Hanzo insisted.  “You look utterly foolish."  Though the small smile seemed to have settled around his mouth… and it looked good on him.  Smiles always did.

 

“Protest all ya want, darlin’.  Ya’ve got amusement written all over yer face.  Just admit it."  Beaming, Jesse swaggered closer, close enough that really the only thing between them was the box Hanzo still held.

 

“Admit that your foolishness amuses me?  Very well.  If you insist.”

 

Jesse laughed and shook his head.  “That ain’t what I meant, an’ ya know it."  He let his grin grow into a smirk.  “Though if it offends ya so much, I could always take everythin’ off…”  His hands moved to the hem of his bulky sweater and began to lift.

 

“Enough!” Hanzo cut him off, but Jesse knew he wasn't imagining the lightness in the other man’s tone.  “You are impossible…”

 

“In all the best ways, darlin’.”

 

That earned him an eyeroll and a soft, suffering sigh.  Jesse liked this - being able to tease the man without worry of causing real offense.  He could get used to it.  But he did wonder why (or how) their Thanksgiving conversation had changed things.  Not that he was about to ask.  No way in hell he wanted to ruin whatever dynamic they suddenly had going… not when he liked it so much.  All Jesse could figure was that he was finally starting to grow on Hanzo - or so he hoped.

 

“I’m now uncertain whether or not you deserve this."  Hanzo took a step back, holding the package close.

 

“Aww!  No!  Ya can’t take back presents!  That ain’t allowed!”  He made a casual grab for the box, but the other man stepped out of reach with agile adeptness.  Jesse stumbled forward a couple of steps, pretending to pout.  “An’ no fair usin’ all that ninja stuff on me neither!”

 

“I would not have to use such things if you would behave properly…”

 

The ex-con put his hands on his hips.  “Ya ever thought maybe the trouble is _you_ don’t know how ta behave _improperly_?”  Hanzo opened his mouth - presumably to argue - but Jesse shushed him.  “Alright, alright.  How ‘bout we call a truce?  An'... agree to a trade?”

 

“Trade?”  One slim brow arched in amused doubt.

 

With a nod, Jesse moved over to his tree, scooping up the package he’d been agonizing over mere moments before.  He waved it in the air, grinning broadly.  “You show me yours, an’ I’ll show you mine?”

 

Hanzo actually looked… surprised.  That was the only word Jesse had for the expression on the other man’s face.  And suddenly he felt self-conscious about it, clutching the present close.  “‘Course, it ain’t spectacular or nothin’..."  He looked down at it - unreasonably, _stupidly_ worried that his gift would be rejected.

 

A carefully wrapped package was pushed gently into his field of vision.  “I accept your offer of trade.  However, I advise you to open mine carefully…”

 

Still a little nervous, Jesse accepted the package and held his out to Hanzo in return.  Once the other man had taken it, the ex-con looked down to consider the simply-wrapped gift.  “Careful, huh…?”  Taking Hanzo’s advice, he moved to sit on the couch, setting his present down on the coffee table before gently undoing the twine.  “Come n’ sit.  We can open at tha same time…”  Which made him feel a little less self-conscious about the whole thing.

 

To his surprise, Hanzo joined him without comment and, with the present in his lap, began to undo the paper.  Jesse refocused on his own gift, which hadn’t been taped, just expertly packaged.  It came open to reveal a familiar box… like the ones all that amazing food had come in the night Hanzo brought him ‘takeout.’  That memory alone made him eager and his hands worked to get the box open.  Inside was probably one of the most beautiful cakes he’d ever seen.  It wasn’t intricate, but the craftsmanship was impressive.  Perfectly, pristinely white, the cake was decorated with a simple pattern of lacy icing around the outer edge.  Within the border, evenly spaced across the circular surface, were the prettiest looking strawberries he’d ever seen.  The damn things weren’t even in season and they looked amazing!

 

Jesse gaped, then finally looked up to beam at Hanzo.  “You sure know tha way ta this man’s heart!” he teased.  “It’s almost too pretty ta eat!”  Then his breath caught as he registered the fact that the other man was focused on the unwrapped gift in his own lap.  _‘He doesn’t like it,’_ was the first thought that settled in Jesse’s mind, and his heart sank a little, preparing for the disappointment.

 

“Where… did you find these?”

 

“I know everything’s pre-packaged,” the ex-con began.  “But I didn’t know when I was gonna see ya, an’ I wanted it ta still taste good…”  Next to the obviously fresh creation he’d been gifted with, Jesse felt the mediocrity of his own gift sinking into him like a heavy stone.

 

“I did not realize there was anywhere local that made such delicacies.”

 

Jesse stopped making excuses.  “So… you like it?”

 

Hanzo looked up at him with a smile… a REAL smile.  And Jesse thought his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest and kill him on the spot.  Damn!  No wonder the man never smiled… that thing had the potential to be a weapon of mass destruction!

 

“This is… a very thoughtful gift.  I like it very much.  Thank you, Jesse.”

 

And he felt like he was going down for the count!  That was _definitely_ the first time Hanzo had ever said his first name!  He missed the sound already… But he found himself saying in a casual tone, “Weren’t nothin’.  Tha place is over on Madison Avenue, right smack between 52nd an' 53rd street.  Ya can’t miss it.”

 

“I will have to pay them a visit.”

 

Jesse nodded, searching for something else to say.  Anything else.  “Hey… if yer not busy, I could sure use some help eatin’ some a’ this amazing cake ya brought me.  Can ya stay fer a bit?”

 

Hanzo seemed to hesitate, but before Jesse could say anything to try and convince him, he gave a short, quick nod.  “I would like that.”

 

If anyone had told Jesse six months ago that he’d be spending Christmas Eve with the future head of a powerful criminal organization, he would’ve laughed in their face.  And if they’d said he’d actually _ENJOY_ the evening, he might’ve punched them.  But that’s exactly what happened.  They ate all of the cake Hanzo had brought (it tasted as fantastic as it looked) and they talked - like (mostly) normal people.  Well, okay, Jesse probably did most of the talking.  When it came to the Shimada brothers, the ex-con suspected Genji had gotten most of the ‘extrovert genes.’  But Hanzo at least seemed… engaged, and that was enough for Jesse.

 

The evening wrapped up with something special… something that had slipped his mind at first, but once he remembered, he had to offer.  “Ya know… I told ya I go out with Reyes every year to look at lights… last year Genji came with us.  We filmed tha whole thing.  He wanted to send it to Lucio as a present.  Anyway… he made me a copy, too.  We could watch…?  If ya wanted…”

 

He saw Hanzo hesitating.  Was the man getting easier to read or was Jesse just getting better at understanding those small tics of muscle that passed for emotion?  “I… do not wish to intrude upon your memories…”

 

“Intrude?  But that’s what home movies are for, ain’t they?  So ya can share happy times with people who couldn’t be there?  ‘Sides… yer always talkin’ 'bout not knowin’ yer brother all that well.  Here’s tha chance!  See ‘im like he was with his friends… though, if I recollect, he was really hammin’ things up for Lucio… but still!”

 

That lip tug was back on Hanzo’s face - the one that he used in place of a smile most times.  Jesse decided causing that expression was almost as much fun as making the man irritated. 

 

“Very well,” Hanzo finally replied.  “I would like to watch.”

 

“‘Course ya would!” the ex-con replied with a knowing grin.  He grabbed the DVD from the nearby shelf, popped it into his cheap player and cued things up.  Plopping down on the couch as he fidgeted with the remote, Jesse patted the cushion next to him.  ‘C’mon, take a seat.  Genji edited it down to tha best bits, but there’s still a good hour’s worth a’ footage.”

 

Moving from his place at the kitchen dinette, Hanzo sat down next to him without protest… close enough that Jesse could feel his body heat - something he tried to ignore as he hit play and the TV screen was suddenly awash in memories.  Woah… they made his chest ache way more than he’d expected.  Genji had been such a force!  It was still hard to believe sometimes that he was gone.

 

When it was over, and the final image faded from the screen, Jesse’s apartment fell into silence.  It wasn’t awkward or unwanted - more like the kind of silence you give in memory of someone.  Hanzo spoke first.  “You have given me a gift far more worthy than my own tonight.  Thank you.”

 

Jesse waved off the other’s words with a soft laugh.  “Hell, ignoring the fact that the cake was damn good, ya gave me a lot tonight, too.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Sure!  I was jus' gonna sit here n’ feel sorry fer myself.  Wallow in a bunch a’ old memories.  Instead, I got ta spend it with you.  That’s way better in my book.”

 

Hanzo didn’t say anything for a moment, as if thinking.  “Christmas… is not a good time for you?”

 

Considering the question, Jesse shrugged.  “It’s not bad… Obviously, I like it or I wouldn’t decorate, right?  There’s just a lot a' memories wrapped up in it… people long gone… people I miss."  He gave Hanzo a thoughtful look.  “What about you?”

 

The man seemed startled that Jesse had asked.

 

“Ya don’t hafta say, just… curious.  Makin’ conversation…”

 

Hanzo hesitated for just long enough that Jesse thought he might not reply.  “Christmas in Japanese culture is… different.  It means different things…”  He trailed off, seemingly unwilling to explain more.  Jesse didn’t press; it seemed rude to, and the night was going so well.

 

“Yeah?  Well… whatever it means to ya… I hope I made yer's at least a little better.”

 

Hanzo nodded… and that small smile was back on his face.  “You have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case anyone's interested - Minamoto Kitchoan really exists! (https://www.kitchoan.com/) I wanted some authenticity for the fic and discovered them while doing my research for this chapter. What's even better - you can buy all sorts of amazing Japanese goodies from them online! They're a little pricey, but their confections are top quality and 100% worth what you're paying. Now and then my cousin and I will do an unboxing/taste-testing on her Twitch channel (https://www.twitch.tv/paichan13) We're actually planning one for September 16th, so if you're interested, stop on by! I'm not certain of our time yet, but it's usually between 5 and 7 pm CST, and you can keep an eye on her twitch channel for the actual time. ^_^ (The Chi Snack Shop also exists and Googlemaps will let you wander around inside the shop if you feel like doing a bit of digital exploring. LOL!)
> 
> Also, there's something very subtle happening in this chapter that some of you might not be aware of. Christmas in Japan is a different kind of holiday in terms of meaning. Jesse seriously has no clue how significant it is that Hanzo sought him out on Christmas Eve, and because I'm not writing from Hanzo's POV, I wanted to share a little extra information for those of you who, like Jesse, don't understand what an exciting step this is in their relationship. So, in the US, Christmas is typically seen as a religious, family holiday. A time to worship the birth of Jesus and celebrate with your relatives and loved ones. In Japan, Christmas is celebrated by most, regardless of religion, and is often viewed as a holiday focused on lovers, with New Year's being the more family-oriented holiday. So, the fact that Hanzo chose to spend his Christmas Eve with Jesse is (to put it mildly) kind of a big deal. LOL! It means (although Jesse has absolutely NO clue) that Hanzo views him as someone special in his life.
> 
> And finally - I'm almost 100% positive that someone gave my fic a boost via social media of some sort a few weeks ago. You don't have to come forward or anything, but I just wanted to say THANK YOU for the support! It's always a delight to watch those kudos climb and to know y'all are enjoying what I'm writing - especially enough to share it with others! That really just makes my day! XD


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

  ** _~ One Month Later ~_ **

* * *

 

New Year’s came and went.  Jesse spent the night as he always did, out at his favorite bar with good friends and good music.  Normally he took someone home to help him ring in the new year… but not this time.  Not when all he could think about was Hanzo Shimada.  Christmas Eve kept replaying in his head.  The ex-con was surprised by how much he’d enjoyed just spending time with Hanzo.  The two of them had fallen into it so easily… like they’d known each other forever.  Jesse’d expected awkwardness, but received the exact opposite… and now he wanted more.  He’d even been tempted to make their tattooing sessions more frequent, but had so far managed to resist that particular urge.  Better to make it last longer, right?

 

Their sessions did change in other ways, though.  Hanzo would show up a little early, and they’d talk while Jesse got things set up, and he’d stay after sometimes, too - just to hang out.  During the session things stayed mostly the same; occasional chatting, but mostly amiable silence.  Still - the atmosphere felt different.  Jesse wasn’t sure if that was him or Hanzo or something else entirely… but he liked it… more than he knew he had any right to.  He had to assume that Hanzo liked it, too… otherwise why would the man bother? 

 

The ex-con knew that he was playing a dangerous game.  With Genji things had been different; he hadn’t known the trouble he could get into while hanging out with his friend, but if he had, would it have stopped him?  Jesse didn’t think so.  Yeah, it was stupid.  And lord knew, he didn't want to go back inside.  But he couldn’t help who he liked, no more than he could help who he… Hanzo’s face flashed into his mind and settled there - that beautiful smile from Christmas.  But that was stupid for other reasons.  Even if he didn't have a parole to worry about, a relationship (an _actual_ relationship) with the other man was impossible.  Wasn’t it?

 

Jesse was still mulling over those thoughts when Hanzo showed up for his session… wearing jeans and a t-shirt.  “Well lookit you!” he couldn’t help teasing.  “Even when ya dress down, ya make it look like the best thing ever."  That earned him a very small smile and an eyeroll.  “I didn’t even think ya owned a pair of jeans!”  And then, because it gave him a reason to eye Hanzo’s nicely-shaped ass, he not-so-subtly looked for the brand stamp.

 

“They are custom,” Hanzo said with a soft laugh, catching on to what the ex-con was doing.

 

“Of course they are,” Jesse replied with a grin.  “Why ain’t I surprised."  It wasn’t a bitter comment, just teasing.  Jesse found he liked teasing Hanzo on just about everything - and the other’s expensive tastes were a fun (and easy) target.  Starting to get things set up for their session, he continued, “So, do I get the story on why yer so dressed down t’day?  Or are ya gonna make me guess?” 

 

Hanzo actually looked sheepish.  “Our talk last week… it got me thinking…”

 

Jesse didn’t have to wrack his brain to remember the conversation Hanzo meant.  Hell… it was hard to forget any of their meetings… not when they had become so important to him.  It had started as casual talk about what they did when they weren’t working.  Hanzo had mentioned his love for archery... competitions he often attended.  And then he brought up his enjoyment of benefit dinners and the like - black-tie type stuff where charities would cater to high-end donors.  That had got Jesse talking about other more ‘down-to-earth’ ways to help people who needed it.  Which wasn’t to say what Hanzo did wasn’t important.  Money mattered.  But sometimes a human element was _more_ important - being a face rather than just a pocket book.  People liked to feel cared about.  It was why Jesse volunteered at the nearby shelter when he could.  They had his number for big projects, but most days he’d just show up and ask, ‘How can I help t’day?’

 

“Got you thinkin’...?”  Jesse prompted, curious now.

 

“There are certain areas of the city which…” Hanzo hesitated, as if looking for the right words.  “They are under my family’s care.  After our talk I realized I had never truly taken the time to… walk around them… examine what they might need.  My attire was an effort to blend in... seem approachable.”

 

The ex-con grinned in approval as he pulled out the extra lamps and got them plugged in and turned on.  “An’ how'd it go?”

 

Hanzo frowned.  “I learned a good deal… but the knowledge was upsetting.  I have always been taught that association with my family brings abundance and prosperity...”

 

“An’ that ain’t what ya saw?”

 

“No.  The level of poverty… of unhappiness… was discomforting."  As Hanzo spoke, he stripped out of his t-shirt with graceful moves that made Jesse want to watch him do it over and over again.  They were working on the sleeve now, which made for some interesting positioning, and Jesse waited for Hanzo to get settled before moving in to sit on his stool.

 

“Even a family like yours can’t help everyone,” he commented, wanting to soothe the other's doubts.  Not to mention Jesse suspected any criminal organization would need to encourage poverty to some extent.  It was, in part, what made business lucrative. But he didn’t say so. There were _some_ conclusions Hanzo needed to draw on his own.  

 

“Perhaps… but I believe we could be doing more, and I intend to discuss some ideas with my father.”

 

Jesse smiled as he prepped his inking pen.  “I’m sure whatever ya can do would be appreciated.”

 

“Mmm…”

 

Hanzo fell into a thoughtful silence as Jesse made some final adjustments.  The ex-con eyed his work with a mixture of pride… and regret.  It was almost done… maybe one more session after this one?  Fingers traced, unintentionally teasing, over tattooed skin in various states of healing. He didn’t want this to be over… didn’t want to lose the friendship that he thought was growing between them…

 

“McCree…?”  Hanzo’s voice was soft, questioning, and he didn’t really hear it - too lost in his thoughts… his worries.

 

“Jesse?!”  The tone was sharper - louder - and it snapped him back into reality.

 

“Heh... sorry, darlin’… jus’ didn't realize we were so close ta bein’ done…”

 

“Oh?”  There was a tone to that single remark, one that hinted at forced indifference.

 

“One more session… maybe two, dependin’.  And once it’s fully healed, I’d like ta get some photos for my personal portfolio…”  A risky move, he knew, but this was some of his best work, and Hanzo’s face didn’t have to be in the pictures.

 

“Is that wise?”

 

Jesse laughed, amused that they were thinking along the same lines.  “Probably not, but what kinda artist would I be if I let work this good go undocumented, huh?”

 

That earned him a chuckle.  “You lack humility,” Hanzo teased - but also not denying the tattoo’s high quality.  

 

“Only when it comes ta the stuff I do best, darlin’.”  The ex-con gave a smirk and a wink.  “Now just settle back an’ leave everythin’ ta me fer awhile.”

 

“Under any other circumstances, that statement would sound like a disaster waiting to happen.”

 

Jesse snorted as he began to work.  “Rilin’ yer artist up while under the needle?  That’s a dangerous game ta play, Shimada.”

 

Hanzo chuckled, but remained still as he replied, “We both know you are too fine of an artist to compromise your work in such a way.”

 

The compliment, although said in the middle of the banter he enjoyed so much, made the ex-con flush with pride.  “Too fine is damn straight,” he replied with a playful grin.  “Nice ta know ya finally noticed.”

 

That earned him an eyeroll and a semi-amused snort.  Damn… he was really going to miss this - a thought Jesse shoved as deep into the back of his mind as he could.  Better to not think about it, not let it worry him.  Especially not while he had more important things to focus on.

 

* * *

**_~ Almost Three Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

  

He’d been putting it off for over a week now.  This was it.  Jesse knew he couldn’t just leave Hanzo’s tattoo in limbo forever.  With a soft inhale of breath, he typed the message into his phone… and then just stared at it.

 

_[ It's finally here!  After today we can finally get rid of each other.  ;-)   Final session tonight?   10pm? ]_

 

It sounded too… full of bravado.  Too uncaring.  And he wasn't.  The fact that this was their last session really bothered him.  Naw, better to delete it and just send his normal…  Jesse’s finger slipped and mashed down on the send button.  “Sonuva…!”  With a growl of frustration he glared down at the screen.  “Guess the Fates have other plans for us, huh, darlin’?” he murmured at the phone.  There wasn’t an instant message back, and after nearly five minutes of staring Jesse gave up and set the device aside.  It wasn’t until several hours later he got a reply - unusual for Hanzo.  And all it said was:

 

_[ Asshat:  I will be there. ]_

 

The ex-con tried not to read it in one of Hanzo’s terse tones - but failed; something that only made him feel worse.  It was just a damn text; why was he feeling so weird about it…?

 

That night Hanzo didn’t come early.  He wasn’t late - right on time, in fact - but there was something different in his attitude.  At first Jesse thought he was just projecting his own emotions and issues onto the other man, but it quickly became apparent to him that something really _was_ wrong.

 

“Alright - out with it,” he said, trying to keep his tone light despite the very real worry hidden there.  “What the hell is wrong with you t’night?”  Jesse took his seat on the stool, trying to box the other man in a little… force him to talk.

 

His words and efforts earned him a single arched brow.  “I do not know what you mean.”

 

“Like hell you don’t!  Somethin’ is up, and I’m not gonna finish yer ink ‘less you fess up and tell me what bee’s got in yer britches.”

 

Hanzo blinked at him, obviously confused.  “Bees in my…?”

 

Jesse sighed and tried again.  “Tell.  Me.  What’s.  Botherin’.  You."  The words were said slow as he tried to keep anger from his tone.

 

The other man actually looked away from him, staying silent for almost too long before finally replying, “You are glad this is our final meeting.”

 

“I… wait, huh?  Where’d ya get a notion like that?”

 

Hanzo finally turned to stare at him.  There was color in his face, a flush that wasn’t normally there, but Jesse couldn’t tell if it was anger or embarrassment, or something else entirely.  “The text you sent me today.”

 

“Tha…?”  Jesse couldn’t help a grin as his frazzled nerves relaxed a little.  His instincts had been right; the text was too over-the-top.  Now to do some damage control.  “Darlin’ it was a joke. I put a winkie face on it n’ everythin’.”

 

“I… do not recall."  That almost sounded petulant.

 

“Yeah, well I do.  There was a wink at the end a’ that sentence.  I was teasin… pokin' fun at how all a' this started.  Didn't mean nothin’ by it…”

 

“But this _will_ be the last time."  There was something in that statement - something that sounded… pained?  No… couldn't be.  Then again…  The ex-con allowed himself to toy with the idea that Hanzo really _did_ consider them to be friends… and that this felt like a goodbye for him as much as it did for Jesse.  Only for very different reasons.  If that was true, then he needed to set the other man straight.  Fast.

 

“Well… yeah, fer tha tattoo.  But I…”

 

“And my presence is still a danger to your freedom.”

 

“True, but…”

 

“So, once the tattoo is complete, the logical thing for you to do is cease any further communication…”

 

“Well, yeah… Wait...  No!  Hell, no!  Dammit, Hanzo!  Would ya stop interruptin’ n’ let me talk?!”  Jesse plowed ahead, not waiting for an answer.  “This all may’ve started out with us at each other's throats, but now… things're different.  An’ hell, I think we done pretty good at keepin’ it all hushed up so far.  I know it ain’t ideal fer me - maybe not fer you either - but I meant what I said before.  Yer welcome here whenever ya like.  We don't need tha tattoo as an excuse."  Jesse offered the other man a broad grin.  “Jus’... gimme a little bit a’ warnin’ first, alright?  Otherwise ya might find me like ya did that first night."  He winked… and Hanzo actually smiled!  Even if it was a small one.  “See now - I knew the mention a’ me in nothin’ but my birthday suit would put a smile on yer face.”

 

That earned him a fierce glare.  “You are hardly the first naked man I’ve seen, McCree!”  Jesse could tell that Hanzo regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.  Which was why he couldn’t just let it go.  

 

“That so?”  His eyes practically danced with amusement.  “I bet that’s a story worth hearing.”

 

Hanzo’s sigh was exasperated.  “Nudity it not the stigma in my culture that it is in yours,” he replied, tone mostly matter-of-fact, although Jesse could’ve sworn there was some indignation hidden in there, too.  

 

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, trying to placate his friend.  “Ya know I’m jus’ messin’ with ya.  An’ speakin’ a nudity… if you don’t strip that shirt off, I might not get this tattoo done tonight after all.”

 

That got him another small smile… and the secret joy of watching Hanzo begin to undo the buttons of his dress shirt, revealing the lithe body beneath.  “You are impossible and infuriating.”

 

Jesse laughed as he got the inking pen ready.  “‘Course, darlin’.  Ain’t that why ya love me?”  The ex-con was certain he imagined the brief hesitation of fingers on buttons as he spoke those words.  Yeah… couldn’t have been anything but his mind playing tricks on him.  Not wanting the silence to become awkward, the ex-con quickly continued, “Now, stick out yer arm an’ let’s do this.”

 

* * *

**_~ One Month Later ~_ **

* * *

 

A month.  One whole fucking month without a word from Hanzo.  It hurt, but Jesse knew he shouldn’t be surprised.  It was looking more and more like their friendship had been one of convenience, nothing more - despite all of Hanzo’s words and worry to the contrary.  He felt like an idiot - being upset over the loss of something he’d never really had to begin with.  But he couldn’t just tell the feelings to go away either.  At work Jesse tried his best to hide it, but was pretty sure Reyes suspected something was up.  A part of him wanted to come clean, just so he’d have someone to talk to about it, but he worried that his friend might not be very forgiving… and then he’d have Reyes angry at him AND no one to talk to.

 

There was one person who might listen… hell, he was a captive audience!  Which was how Jesse found himself at the cemetery.  Genji’s grave was spotless… so no need for cleaning.  He imagined the family was probably seeing to that… and then wondered how often Hanzo came here.  With a flutter of pain, he pushed the thought aside and began the regular ritual.  First the incense was lit, then the sake was poured.  Jesse also placed a single yellow marigold by the cup - his silent nod to Lucio’s traditions. Once all of that was done, he sat back, inhaling and exhaling deeply a few times.

 

“Hey.  Guess it’s been awhile.  Sorry ‘bout that.  Things got a little…”  He stopped and shook his head. “ ** _I_ ** got a little weird for awhile.  But better late than never, right?”  Jesse laughed and ran a hand through his hair.  “I actually… kinda needed someone ta talk to.  An’ yer the only one who… well, I mean, you know yer brother.  Better n’ me, I expect.  An’ I guess ya know what we been doin’... if yer around up there somewhere, a ‘course…”  Jesse scrubbed at his eyes.  “Fuck, Genj… I really, really like tha damn asshat.  An’ I thought… Was I stupid?  Thinkin’ he’d ever…?”  Rocking back, he looked up at the sky.  Overcast.  But he liked it… skies that held the promise of rain always made the ex-con feel… excited… expectant.

 

With a sigh he looked back down to the stone, staring at the kanji carved there.  “Ya know… I thought we at least had become friends… that he might…”  Jesse stopped and shook his head.  “Dammit, it’s all so dumb.  I know tryin’ ta maintain a friendship… or anythin’ else could turn out real bad fer me.  But I… I just can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout ‘im.  What’s wrong with me, huh?  Could have practically any guy on tha planet, and I want tha one there’s no way I can have…”  He bowed his head, not knowing what else to say… and not really feeling any better either.  “Guess I jus’ wish he’d come ‘round now n’ then… hell, he ain’t even come back so’s I could take the finished photos.  Maybe then I could…”

 

Jesse cut off abruptly at the feeling that he suddenly wasn’t alone anymore.  If it was another mourner, they’d likely move along and leave him alone.  But the feeling persisted, making the ex-con uncomfortable.  “Huh…” he murmured quietly.  “Guess that’s my cue ta…”

 

“McCree?”

 

Jesse didn’t turn right away, but his eyes widened at the sound of that familiar, accented voice.  He glared at the tombstone and hissed softly, “I didn’t mean fer ya ta go n’ fetch ‘im!”  Then he turned, staring up at Hanzo - who looked amazing while backlit by the slowly setting sun.  “Hey, Hanzo,” he replied, trying to keep his voice casual.  “Long time, no see.”

 

“...Indeed.”

 

Okay… awkward.  Jesse tried again.  “How’s tha tat?  Healin’ up alright?”

 

Hanzo moved to stand beside him, and then knelt.  “All is well."  A beat of silence.  “Should you stay?”

 

That surprised the ex-con.  Hanzo wasn’t asking him to leave, but seemed honestly concerned about whether or not it was safe for him to remain.  Their shoulders brushed as Hanzo shifted and it sent a small shiver down Jesse’s spine.  “Well… if ya don’t mind my bein’ here then yeah… I think I’ll stay.”

 

“I do not mind.”

 

Jesse smiled at that.  “You sure I’m not crampin’ yer style?”

 

He thought he heard Hanzo chuckle.  A low, rich sound.  “While your own style may be… questionable, it does not bother me.  Not anymore.”

 

Anymore?  Jesse looked over at the man kneeling beside him, startled, but also pleased.  “So… I’m startin’ ta grow on ya, huh?”

 

“Mm,” Hanzo acknowledged before pausing thoughtfully.  “Rather like a fungus.”

 

“A fun…!”  Jesse stopped, mouth agape as he stared at the other man, watching as a smile curved around perfect lips.  “Yer messin’ with me!”  He gave a soft laugh.  “Didn’t know ya had it in ya, Shimada."  Then… because he never knew when to shut up, and because he was still hurt that it’d been a month since they spoke, “So… that mean there’s some other reason I haven’t heard from ya?”

 

They were close enough that he saw Hanzo’s body go stiff, and Jesse immediately regretted asking.  Shoulda kept his damn mouth shut!  But finally the other man said, “I have been busy with… family matters.  Things I would have been unable to discuss without…” Here he hesitated, as if unsure of the right words to use.

 

“Think I understand,” Jesse replied with a nod, looking back to the grave they both knelt in front of.  “So ya came to tha only person ya could talk to…”

 

He felt Hanzo’s eyes on him, but didn’t turn to look.  “I… yes."  His gaze didn’t waiver.  “You are here for the same reason."  A statement, not a question.  

 

The ex-con sighed, nodding as he turned back to look at Hanzo.  A sheepish smile crept across his lips.  “Sometimes, I got things I can’t talk ta anyone about…  but I can’t focus on anythin’ else ‘til I get it off my chest.”

 

“I interrupted?”

 

“Naw, I was mostly done… but I guess that kinda means I’m keepin’ you from yer heart-ta-heart, huh?”

 

“I have already said you may stay.”

 

Jesse didn’t stand, studying Hanzo carefully.  “Y’know… maybe I jus’ have ta keep sayin’ it until ya believe me, but I don’t mind ya comin’ round.  It’s my life an’ I get ta make the tough choices.  ‘Sides, ain’t nothin’ sayin’ we hafta talk…”  Hanzo immediately shot him a glare and Jesse chuckled.  “Get yer mind outta tha gutter, darlin’.  I didn’t mean _**that**_ , neither."  Oh, if only…  “Damned if I don’t know how nice it can be ta jus’ get away from things fer a bit.  Ain’t no better place, am I right?  No one’s gonna come lookin’ for ya when yer with me."  He saw the indecision on the other man’s face… and was proud of himself for recognizing it.  “C’mon… let me do this for ya.  As a friend.”

 

“Friend?”  Now that other expression was back - the unreadable one that Jesse still hadn’t managed to figure out.

 

“Sure.  Ain’t we?”  And then, quickly, because he was afraid of Hanzo’s answer, “Hell… whatever ya might think a’ me, I consider **_you_ **a friend, alright?  An’ I help my friends.  So… if you need downtime, or a place ta lay low fer awhile, jus’ come over."  He grinned.  “Not like ya haven’t had run a’ the place fer months now.  Comin’ an goin’ whenever ya please.”

 

Hanzo snorted, but didn’t deny the words.  “This… is not a good idea.  Not for you.”

 

“Yeah… maybe not.  But tha choice is mine ta make."  Jesse’s eyes danced, teasing.  “What’sa matter, Shimada?  Ya think yer not worth me goin’ back ta jail?”

 

“Do **_you_ **think I am?”

 

The ex-con hadn’t expected that question to be thrown back at him, but he took it in stride and answered with honesty.  “Ain’t that what I been sayin’?”  Damn, the man was dense!  Was it really possible he didn’t see himself as worth more than Jesse’s freedom?  For some reason, that came as a surprise to the ex-con.  "Maybe I didn’t once,” he finally admitted.  “But a fella’s allowed ta change his mind, ain’t he?”

 

That odd expression was back as Hanzo nodded.  “Very well.  I will… consider your offer more seriously.”

 

And Jesse figured that was the best he could hope for… and hell if he wasn’t hoping hard.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being a week behind! Ao3 was apparently having some database issues last weekend, and I decided it would be better to wait a week, just in case. So, without further ado, here's your chapter and... I hope it was worth the wait. :)

* * *

**_~ Three Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

 

When it hit the two week mark and there was (once again) no sign of Hanzo, Jesse’s good mood visibly deflated.  He tried to stay positive - maybe their chat at the cemetery had been enough for awhile.  Or maybe he was being brushed off.  A part of him wanted to just give up and move on.  There was that cute bartender at the club - Jean-Baptiste - yeah, they’d had fun a few times… enjoyed some late nights and early mornings together.  Maybe it could be something more serious if he stopped his damn pining and gave it a shot? At three weeks, Jesse officially gave up.  Well… almost.  He didn’t delete Hanzo’s number from his phone.  Wasn’t quite ready for that yet.  But he stopped hoping for or expecting the man to appear in his apartment as he had so many times before.

 

And maybe that was all it took.  What was it they said… something about a watched pot never boiling?  Because just as soon as Jesse stopped expecting it, that was precisely when it happened.  Only, not quite in the way he’d anticipated.  

 

His apartment might not be much, but there was one thing Jesse really liked.  The roof.  Because he lived on the upper floor of a standalone building, Jesse got that roof all to himself.  Yeah, technically it belonged to Jamison, just like the rest of the building, but Jesse’d been given the go-ahead to use it however he pleased.  So he did.  He’d started out just with building a small covered area off to one side, no real walls - just some place to relax out of the direct sun - big enough for two... or maybe three.  There wasn’t much of a view, really, and the air wasn’t always fresh, but Jesse couldn’t complain.  He’d added a side table and a couple of lounge chairs and, eventually, a small fire pit.  Then he’d started decorating.  Nothing too elaborate, but where’s the fun of a rooftop if you don’t make the most of it?  He painted the ground first, working out a detailed, colorful abstract design - something to wow any drone-users who might happen across it.  Then he added a few more plants, a few strings of white lights… and called things done.

 

Tonight he was on the roof enjoying a relatively warm evening.  Well… warm for April in New York City.  He had a 6-pack of beer, an old CD/Stereo currently playing Johnny Cash, a fire blazing in the portable pit, and his cell phone.  With a broad grin, Jesse was scrolling through Lena and Emily’s wedding photos.  Damn they made a cute couple!  Then he got to the ones he’d been waiting for!  “Hello, photoshop!” Jesse crooned to himself, impressed by the quality of Lena’s skills.  “Damn girl!  Even _I’m_ gonna start thinkin’ I was there!” He felt a little guilty this was the first time he’d managed to look through them.  The wedding had been over two months ago.  But he’d had a lot on his mind… Tonight though, Jesse really needed the pickmeup - and these were just what the doctor ordered!

 

At first the pics started out relatively normal.  He’d been expertly photoshopped into various posed shots of the wedding party.  Then came the slightly sillier ones - him dancing with a HUGE albino boa amidst other wedding guests (his date, presumably), him doing one of those Irish dances on the buffet table, him at the top of a human pyramid of various guests.  Then he scrolled and the next picture came into focus.  It was him, and Lena and Emily - all astride a massive t-rex who was holding the wedding bouquets. Jesse couldn’t help himself; he lost it - laughing long and hard into the night.  Lena had really outdone herself.  Still snickering, he immediately began typing up a comment on the photo, demanding a printed copy to display on his wall.  He’d just hit send when the scuff of a foot on the concrete roof had him looking up.

 

Jesse's head shot up!  Someone was standing by the fire escape that led down to his kitchen window, but being on this side of the firelight, he couldn’t make out who.  “Tha hell…?!”  The words were growled out low as he set the phone aside, standing and shifting into a defensive position.  But before Jesse could call out, the figure spoke.

 

“Should I have texted first?”

 

The smooth, accented sound of a voice he hadn’t been sure he’d hear again echoed in Jesse’s ears.  “Hanzo…?”  Body relaxing, he strode forward, trying to keep his expression neutral.

 

“Since when did you get so jumpy, McCree?”  There was teasing in the tone… and he wanted to respond to it, but…  

 

“Oh, I dunno.  Been awhile since I had anyone comin’ or goin’.  Not so used to it anymore..."  Yeah - that didn’t sound at all bitter...

 

“It has not been that long."  Hanzo’s voice seemed unsure now, or Jesse liked to imagine that it did.

 

He moved forward, past the firelight, letting his eyes adjust to the surrounding darkness… and the shadowed features of Hanzo’s face.  “Nearly two months now.  Three weeks since the cemetery."  His own voice was defensive, and he hated himself for letting those emotions show.

 

“I did not realize your offer came with a time limit."  Hanzo sounded harder now… on the verge of anger, maybe?  And for a moment too long Jesse didn’t know what to say.  Something flashed in the other man’s eyes… or maybe it was just the firelight.  “If that is how you feel…”  He turned, and something in the pit of Jesse’s stomach told him if he didn’t say something now, then everything they’d built would be over.

 

“Dammit!  Hanzo… wait!”  Jesse stepped forward, expecting the other to keep moving… only he didn’t.  Instead Hanzo turned, and the ex-con skidded to a stop right in front of him.  RIGHT in front!  He could feel Hanzo’s breaths puffing softly against his skin and a shiver of need swept through him like a flashbang.  Jesse took a couple of quick steps back, slightly unnerved by the strength of it.

 

Trying to pull his mind back on track, he replied, “There ain’t a time limit…  Jus’ thought I’d see ya before now, that’s all…”  In the background he could just make out Cash’s voice, _‘I'll admit that I'm a fool for you.  Because you're mine, I walk the line.’_   Damned if that weren’t the truth… only difference being that Hanzo wasn’t his.  Not like that.  Jesse sighed and then gestured back towards the fire.  “C’mon… don’t go.  Have a seat.  I can offer ya good music an’ cheap beer.”

 

He was studied, those dark brown eyes peering into him rather than at him.  “Very well.  However… allow me to offer _you_ alcohol tonight."  Hanzo produced a fancy looking bottle out of a bag, all of the text in Japanese.  “Do you drink sake?”

 

Jesse blinked in honest surprise.  “I… uh - not often?  But it’s decent enough stuff.”

 

Hanzo sniffed as he moved over to the empty lounge chair set up beside Jesse’s.  “This is much more than merely _decent_.  Sit.  I will pour."  The man didn’t wait for agreement.  Instead, he strode over to the small side-table, produced two small cups out of a decorated box from the same bag and began to fill them.

 

For a moment Jesse watched him in confusion.  He couldn’t put a finger on why, but it felt like there was more to this offer.  Something he wasn’t getting.  Finally he gave up trying to figure it out and said, “Alright… I’ll bite.  What’s tha occasion?”

 

The other man looked up at him, an expression of actual surprise on his face.  “You do not know?”

 

“Uh… should I?”  He tried to chuckle, but it came off sounding nervous.  What was he forgetting…?  And how much trouble was he going to be in for it?  

 

Hanzo hummed, motioning for Jesse to sit and join him.  At least he didn’t seem angry.  “Today is Genji’s birthday.  He would have been 35.”

 

Oh… that definitely explained it.  And now the ex-con was even more glad he hadn’t let Hanzo walk away.  His friend had needed him, and he’d let his own insecurities almost ruin everything.  “I didn’ know,” he said finally, voice dipping into solemnity as he sat and accepted the cup that was being offered.  Such a small-looking thing in his large hand.  “Las’ year we celebrated it late.  Lucio was comin’ inta town an’ Genji wanted to share it with ‘im.  Never found out tha actual date…”

 

“I see.”

 

“If things were different, I…”  But they weren’t different.  This was how it was.  At least until he was finally free.  And then what?  Would Hanzo even want to be seen out in public with someone like him…?

 

The other man sipped at his sake, watching Jesse curiously.  “You would what?”

 

Jesse shrugged, downing the contents of the cup in one gulp and letting it burn down his insides.  Holy hell!  That was stronger than the stuff Genji drank!  He noticed Hanzo wince.  Obviously not the way sake was supposed to be enjoyed.  He was making a fool of himself and the night had just started.  Taking a breath to settle the burn, he continued, “I’d take ya out.  Show ya all tha places we went that night.”

 

“Hmm… do not misunderstand, but I don’t think I would enjoy that.  My brother and I… never had similar tastes in amusement."  As Hanzo spoke, he poured Jesse another cupful of sake, and this time the man sipped it.

 

“That so?”  He was grinning, voice almost teasing now.  Hanzo looked confused.  

 

“It is.  Why do you…?”

 

“Well, yer here ain’t ya?  With me?  An’ I was damn good at amusin’ him.  Would ya really be here if I didn’t amuse you, too?”

 

“That is... different.”

 

“Is it?  ‘Sides, sometimes it ain’t about where yer at, but tha company ya got.  Least, that’s what my Gran used ta say."  He grinned and gave Hanzo a wink.

 

Hanzo eyed him - that unreadable expression clouding his eyes.  “Perhaps…”

 

“Think about it,” Jesse continued.  “The friends ya got right now - ya hang out with ‘em ‘cause they make ya happy, right?  Because they’re fun ta be around?  An’ if ya enjoy bein’ with ‘em, then unless _they’re_ unhappy, it don’t really matter.  Right?”

 

Hanzo took a long sip of his sake and seemed to be thinking.  Finally, instead of answering, he said, “I… do not have many friends.”

 

Jesse prevented himself from saying, _‘Well there’s a surprise!’_ by also drinking more sake.

 

“In my position… friendships are… difficult to maintain."  He was slowly thinking his way through the words, as if trying to decide how much it was okay to admit.  “There is also the fact that many of my so-called ‘friends’ only care about my family ties - the prestige my friendship gives them, and the power it can offer.”

 

The ex con gaped.  He’d never really stopped to actually consider the downfalls of being in a position like Hanzo’s.  “But… ya do have _some_ real friends… right?”

 

“I had one.  But circumstances and obligations forced me to distance myself.  And now… he is dead.”

 

Genji.  Hanzo didn’t have to say it.  Who else could it be?  They both sipped sake in silence for a few moments.  And then Hanzo spoke again, his words both surprising and warming Jesse.  “And now, I fear the same thing may be happening with a new friend…”

 

Deciding not to beat around the bush, Jesse replied, “Well… if that new friend so happens ta be me, ya got nothin’ ta worry about.  I was a little miffed ‘bout ya disappearin’ on me.  But I get it now.  An’ that’s tha thing about friends.  Even when stuff happens that keeps ‘em apart, it don’t change nothin.’  They understand.  An’ they’re always happy ta spend time with ya.”

 

“Always?”

 

“Well… I didn’t tell ya to get tha hell off my roof, did I?”

 

“No."  There was a long pause, and then more softly, “But I thought you might.”

 

Jesse hesitated, and then decided on honesty.  “I… thought about it.  But truth is, once I got past tha surprise, I didn’t want ya goin’ nowhere."  That expression was back - the one he couldn’t get a grasp on - which was even more frustrating than normal because it seemed to be happening a lot tonight.  Was it good or bad?  He couldn’t tell… and was afraid to ask.  “Anyway,” he continued, not wanting things to suddenly get awkward, “it won’t happen again.  Me gettin’ angry, I mean.  But… even if ya can’t find tha time to come over, ya could at least text, maybe?  Let me know…”  He almost said _‘that you’re okay,’_ but quickly stopped himself.  “That things are goin’ alright.”

 

Hanzo sipped at his sake, silent for a moment, and a breeze just a shade too chilly ruffled Jesse’s hair, making him shiver.  “I will do my best,” Hanzo said finally, and the ex-con realized that was as good as he was going to get, and accepted it.

 

“I ‘preciate that."  And time for a change of subject.  “Now then, what’s say we move this party indoors before we both wind up with colds?  If yer up for it, I think - thanks ta Genji - I now own jus’ about every movie Kurosawa ever made."  Jesse stood and stretched, long arms reaching high above his head before he finished off another cup of sake, while Hanzo stared at him in clear surprise.

 

“You…?  I would not have guessed you were a fan of his work.”

 

Jesse shrugged.  “Truth is, I like a lot a’ old movies.  Mostly westerns, but other things, too."  Dousing the fire and grabbing the stereo, he moved towards the stairs that led down to the fire escape in front of his kitchen window.  “I was a little unsure at first.  Subtitles ain’t never been my thing, ya know.  But Genji pointed out that one of my favorite westerns was a remake a’ _The Seven Samurai_ … and from that movie on, I was hooked.”

 

Moving down the stairs, Hanzo followed behind.  “They made a wild west retelling?  With… cowboys instead of ronin?  I did not realize…”

 

As Jesse pulled open his window, he looked back at his friend in honest surprise.  “Ya didn’t know?!  It’s a damn fine movie!  Yul Brynner at his best!”  Slipping into the kitchen, he waited for the other man to join him before closing and locking it behind them.

 

Hanzo had one of his thoughtful looks.  “I think… I would like to see your version… the western one.”

 

Damn, the man was full of surprises tonight!  “Really?”  Jesse couldn’t help a broad grin.  “Well, sure!  Lemme jus’ get it set up."  Striding across the room, he set his sake cup down on the coffee table before scanning his DVD shelf for the movie.  “You wanna pour us up another round?”  Then, eyes twinkling,  “You _were_ plannin’ on us finishin’ that off t’night, right?”

 

That comment earned him an actual chuckle!  It was an amazing sound!  And one he missed almost as soon as it faded.  “I am glad it meets with your approval.  And yes, that was my plan.”

 

Jesse found the DVD and popped it into the player as he heard Hanzo settle onto the couch behind him and begin to pour.  Once the DVD was playing and the MGM lion was roaring from the speakers, the ex-con joined his friend on the couch.  And if he sat a little closer than he should have, Hanzo didn’t say anything.  In fact, it might’ve been his imagination, but he could've sworn the other man slid slightly closer as the opening scene began to play across the screen.  Probably just the sake starting to mess with his senses… but it was a nice thought, anyway...

 

* * *

**_~ Six Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

 

As Jesse lifted boxes into the back of the large truck, he kept one eye on the sky.  The clouds were full and dark, promising weather that he’d rather not have to deal with until he was through for the day.  Not even the app on his phone seemed able to pinpoint exactly when the rain was coming, but there was no doubt it was on the way.  A quick shower might do him good; although the temperature was cool, he was working hard, and the rain would’ve felt nice against his heated skin.  But the contents of the boxes - all donations for the local shelter - wouldn’t fare as well.  Instead of worrying, Jesse picked up speed, wanting to get everything loaded before things took a turn for the worse.

 

It was hard work, but worth it.  He liked being able to make a difference, even if it was just a small one.  Hell, every little bit could add up to a whole lot with time and patience.  Once, he’d been the kind of guy who preferred instant gratification, but these days… well, what was that old saying?  The commercial he’d always seen around as a kid…?  Good things come to those who wait?  Yeah, he was more inclined to believe that these days.  Besides, he’d tried things the other way and paid the price.  This time around he was going to do it all right.  Now, if he could just figure out what that was…

 

Shoving the last box into the truck bed, Jesse stood back and took a moment to appreciate a job well done.  He liked helping out the shelter when he could.  Even if Jack hadn’t made the suggestion when he got out, the ex-con liked to think he would’ve gotten involved anyway.  It felt good to help people… way better (he’d been a little surprised to discover) than cheating rich jerks out of their money.

 

Thunder rumbled above him as Jesse took off his cowboy hat, fanning himself while he double checked his work.  The boxes were secure, and he hadn’t left any behind.  They were good to go.  He’d just slid the hat back on when the sound of a whipcrack signaled a new text message.  Pulling out his phone, he grinned, day suddenly made ten times better by the message on the screen.

 

_[Asshat: Are you busy tonight?  I’ll bring take-out.]_

 

Ever since their talk on his rooftop, Hanzo had made more of an effort to maintain their friendship in a way that made Jesse feel a lot less like the Last Chance saloon.  It wasn’t regular.  They both knew better than to risk it; but it was often enough to appease him.  Quickly, Jesse typed back:

 

_[Even if I was, I’m not now.  What time?]_

 

_[Asshat: 6:30?]_

 

Jesse glanced at the time on his phone.  It was almost 4 pm now… that should be plenty of time to get home and get cleaned up.

 

_[Ya got yourself a date!  ;)  See ya then.]_  And then, as an afterthought.  _[If ya got any movie requests, speak now or forever hold your peace.]_

 

_[Asshat: I will bring the movie, too.]_

 

That surprised Jesse a little, but he wasn’t going to argue the fact.  Instead a sly grin tugged at his face as he typed:

 

_[Dinner AND a movie?!  Where have you been all my life?  ;)]_

 

_[Asshat:  Tease me further and I will not bring those pastries you like so much.]_

 

Jesse chuckled to himself.

 

_[Alright, you win.  ;P  See ya at 6:30.]_

 

Messaging done, Jesse closed the back of the truck and locked up before heading back inside to turn in the keys.  Thunder rumbled again but it didn’t sound close, and it didn’t look like the sky had gotten any darker.  He should be able to make it home before things got nasty outside.

 

Not long after, he was headed back to the apartment and trying to make up a list in his head of what needed to be done before Hanzo got there.  He’d tried really hard to keep his place looking good after the tattoo was finished.  The other man had commented on it often enough that Jesse knew it mattered, and since his place was the only hang-out spot they had, he figured it was important to make it a space Hanzo could feel at ease in.

 

Once home, Jesse got clean, tidied up the apartment, and still had a little time to spare.  With a grin, he decided to make the couch a little more comfortable for their evening of movie-watching.  Pulling out the microfiber cover he’d bought for Hanzo’s tattoo sessions, Jesse added that first, for some additional comfort.  Then he added the pillows from his bed, because they were cushier than the throw pillows already there.  Yeah… that looked a little more inviting… and it hid how threadbare the couch had become in a few places.  Perfect!

 

He was still admiring his handiwork when a soft shuffle off to his right alerted Jesse to Hanzo’s arrival.  By now, the ex-con was fairly certain Hanzo came through the kitchen window.  He’d tested it, and with the right tools, it was actually pretty easy to open from the outside.  A slightly disturbing revelation, but he didn’t have the heart to fix it and deny the other man his ‘ninja skills.’ 

 

Turning, he welcomed his friend with a grin.  “Just in time!  I got everthin’ all made up fer us."  Jesse waved at the couch in a ‘ta-da!’ fashion, which earned him a chuckle from Hanzo, who’d already started removing containers from the bags he’d brought with him.  Jesse walked over to help, and as he did, lightning flickered outside and thunder shook the window panes.

 

“Uh… the power here is a little finicky… I’m gonna go grab some candles and matches jus’ in case…”  He made towards the pantry, but then turned quickly and offered the other man a smile.  “I know I teased ya earlier… but I’m really glad ya texted.  Movies and takeout with a friend are the perfect things for a stormy night.”

 

Hanzo actually returned the smile.  Not as much of a surprise for Jesse these days.  The coveted expression seemed to be offered up more and more often these days.  The ex-con liked to imagine he was the only one who ever got to see it… a secret smile meant just for him and no one else.  Stupid?  Yeah… but he never claimed to be otherwise.

 

Once he’d tracked down the candles, Jesse brought them out and arranged them on the coffee table, setting a pack of matches nearby.  By the time he was done, Hanzo had all the food out, so Jesse got plates, napkins, and silverware.  As he did, the ex-con asked, “So, what didja bring us ta watch?”

 

Hanzo seemed to hesitate just for a second, and then replied, “I have recently started to go through my brother’s things… Like you, he had an interesting collection of movies.  I brought over a trilogy that intrigued me.”

 

“Oh yeah?  Now I’m definitely curious,” he half-teased, handing Hanzo a plate.  “What sorts of things intrigue the stoic, no-nonsense Hanzo Shimada?”  Jesse gave him a wink as he moved over to the boxes and began dishing things onto his plate.  

 

He could practically hear Hanzo puffing up behind him.  “I am not either of those things, Jesse McCree…!”

 

“Aw, c’mon darlin’, ya gotta let me get my teasin’ in where I can.  Settle down an’ tell me what they’re about.”

 

Moving to stand next to him so that he could get food as well, Hanzo replied, “They are about an archaeologist in the 1940’s.  He finds himself unwittingly thrust into various adventures around the world… he also seems to have an inexorable amount of run-ins with nazis.”

 

Jesse paused what he was doing and turned to look over at the other man.  It sounded like he was describing…! “Wait… you talkin’ ‘bout Indiana Jones?”

 

Hanzo’s face held genuine surprise as he replied, “You have heard of them?!” 

 

Chuckling softly, the ex-con nodded.  “Yeah, I heard of ‘em.  An’ if you haven’t seen any before, then it’s high time ya did.  They’re good - lots a’ action and adventure… with a little mysticism mixed in.  There’s actually a fourth movie… but most fans try ta forget that one exists."  Plate full, Jesse nodded towards the couch.  “C’mon.  Let’s go get ya educated on tha world a’ Dr. Jones.”

 

As they settled in for good food and better movies, the rain began to fall outside.  It wasn’t a full-blown storm… just some occasional thunder and lighting and the soft sound of droplets hitting the windows, all of which seemed to compliment the movie as it flickered across the screen.

 

They were on _Temple of Doom_ , barely into the fancy banquet scene (and just finishing up the amazing pastries) when there was a bright flash of light quickly followed by a huge CRASH of thunder.  And then everything in Jesse’s apartment went dark. Cursing, he immediately went for his phone. “Hang on… I’ll get the candles lit.”

 

“Perhaps...  I should go…?  We can save the other two for another time.”

 

Hanzo’s words were punctuated by more thunder and lightning as Jesse struck up a match.  “Go home?!  In this weather?!  Yer kiddin’ me, right?!”  He began to light the candles, but looked up long enough to give the other man an incredulous look.  “C’mon… jus’ stay.  I’ll grab us a couple more beers an’ a deck a’ cards.  You play poker?”

 

In the flickering light, Jesse could barely make out the arch of a single questioning brow.  “Not often… no."  

 

“Fer real?!”

 

“Why does that surprise you?”

 

All of the candles finally lit, Jesse shook his head as he disposed of the spent match.  “It’s jus’ that ya got tha best damned poker face I ever seen.  Once ya had a good grasp on tha game, I bet you’d be unstoppable.”

 

Hanzo scoffed… like he often did when Jesse offered a compliment.  It didn’t bother him much.  Jesse just figured the guy was so used to false praise that he didn’t know the real deal when he heard it.

 

“I’m serious."  He stood and went to the fridge, quickly pulling out two beers and walking back with them.  “C’mon… what’ve ya got ta lose?  Not like I’m gonna go blabbin’ that I beat that pants offa ya, now am I?”

 

“No… but you are also unlikely to let me forget it either.”

 

Jesse chuckled.  “You know me too damn well, darlin’.  Why not jus’ admit ya like my teasin’ almost as much as I do.”

 

“Hmm…”  Which (Jesse had decided) was Hanzo’s way of agreeing when he didn’t want to agree.

 

Handing the other man a beer, Jesse plopped back down next to him on the couch.  “If ya don’t wanna do that, then I’m not sure I have much else to offer."  Not anything that Hanzo would accept, at least.  With an internal sigh, the ex-con took a moment to admire Hanzo’s features in the candlelight.  Yeah… he could suggest something else… and get his lights knocked out.  No… not even that.  He wouldn’t be taken seriously.  Jesse’d done a damn fine job of training Hanzo not to take one bit of his flirting seriously.  Too fine, he sometimes thought.

 

Hanzo’s voice pulled him from places he knew he didn’t need to be.  “I would rather just talk.”

 

“But when we do that, somehow I’m tha one who winds up doin’ all tha talkin’,” Jesse protested with a grin.

 

“We _have_ discussed this,” Hanzo stressed, and was that a note of unease in his voice?

 

“I know, I know.  Too much of yer life is wrapped up in yer family’s shit.”

 

“That is unfair!  We do not discuss it so that you cannot be held accountable if…”

 

“If what?”  Jesse knew his complaints might ruin the evening, but this was a sore spot, and now suddenly seemed (in his tired, buzzed brain) like the perfect time to address it.  “Darlin’ if they ever find out we’re friends, they’re not gonna believe a word either of us has ta say about what we were or weren’t doin’ together.”

 

Hanzo sighed, now sounding exasperated.  “Have you ever considered that **_I_ **do not want you involved in that part of my life?”

 

“I ain’t some naive little kid, Hanzo.  My ‘family’ may not’ve been as big or bad as yours, but we weren’t saints, not by a long shot…”

 

“And do you regret leaving that life behind?” Hanzo asked, his voice softer now…  There seemed to be an actual question hidden there.  One that made Jesse look at things from a different perspective.  Hanzo was… trying to protect him.  Not just from the parole board… but from slipping back into the life he’d managed to escape from.

 

“I… no.  No, I don’t,” Jesse admitted.  “I won’t ever be happy ‘bout how things went down, but I don’t regret the changes that came ‘round because of it."  Then, almost hesitantly, he asked, “Do you ever think ‘bout leavin’?  Would they even let ya?”

 

Hanzo was silent for what seemed like a long time, and when he finally replied something in his voice sounded far away… and so very lost.  “I do not know.”

 

Jesse wasn’t sure if it was an answer to his first or second question, but said, “Bein’ on tha right side a’ things takes some adjustin’, but it’s a fine place ta be…”  More thunder rumbled and the wind blew rain in a sharp staccato against the windows.

 

The only response he got to that was a small nod, and Jesse had to resist the sudden and incredible urge to hug the other man.  Finally Hanzo said, “Genji thought so, too.  It was… part of the reason we drifted apart.  But now…”  

 

“It’s not an easy choice,” the ex-con replied, doing his best to understand something he knew he really couldn't.  Not entirely.  “But if it’s one ya decide ya want to explore, tell me, an’ I’ll help however I can.”

 

“That is not your responsibility…”

 

“Don’t I know it,” Jesse replied with a soft chuckle.  “But it’s what friends do.”

 

“Even if it means exposing all that we’ve hidden?”

 

“‘Course.  Absolutely.”

 

That earned him a smile he didn’t think he’d ever seen before, and it made Jesse’s heart ache in a way that scared him to his core.  

 

“I will not forget your offer.  Thank you, Jesse.”

 

Not trusting himself to reply without a hitch in his voice, the ex-con tipped his beer in a casual salute to his friend and then drank deeply.  Once the alcohol had cleared his throat, he spoke.  “Ya know… I actually think I’m startin’ ta get drowsy.  Worked a long day down at tha shelter…”

 

“Then I should…”

 

“No, I ain’t tellin’ ya ta leave,” he insisted with a chuckle.  “It’s still rainin’ cats n’ dogs out there.  Stay.  You can take tha bed an’ I’ll stretch out on tha couch."  Jesse offered Hanzo one of the pillows he’d taken from the bed earlier.  “Here.  Go on…”

 

Hanzo looked between the pillow, and Jesse, and the bed as if unsure how best to express the thoughts going through his head.  Finally he seemed to collect himself enough to say, “I see no reason why the bed cannot be shared. It is obviously the more comfortable of the two.  Why should we not both enjoy it?”

 

Why, indeed?  It WAS big enough… Jesse just never dreamed in a million years that Hanzo would be willing.  “Well… I mean… if yer alright with that…?”  

 

“I would not have offered if I wasn’t.”

 

Jesse gave the other a crooked grin.  “Yeah, guess not.  Alright, then.  You want somethin’ else ta sleep in?”

 

“Please.”

 

And just like that, the two of them were hovering outside of Jesse’s closet, slipping into sweatpants and t-shirts.  Hanzo’s said (appropriately enough) ‘I do all my own stunts’ while Jesse’s proclaimed, ‘All I want to do is drink coffee and ride my horse.’  The ex-con couldn’t help grinning at Hanzo’s, but got caught.

 

As if trying to defend his choice, Hanzo said, “Even in the privacy of this home, I refuse to be seen wearing a shirt which says, ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy.’”

 

With a broad grin, Jesse opened his mouth to reply, unable to resist, but never got the chance.  

 

“Do not!” Hanzo warned.  “Or I will change my mind about the couch."  

 

Chuckling now, Jesse shrugged.  “I can hardly be blamed when ya walk right into it, can I?”  

 

“You most certainly can,” Hanzo insisted, huffiness entering his voice.

 

“Alright, alright.  I’m keepin’ my mouth shut.  Go on an’ lay down.  I’m gonna blow out tha candles.”

 

By the time he got back to the bed, Hanzo actually looked like he was already asleep… not that he could see much as his eyes worked to adjust to the darkness.  It was probably an act, but Jesse didn’t mind.  This _did_ feel a little awkward and feigning sleep seemed like a good way to ease the sensation a little.  Trying to relax (and not think about the fact that the man he’d _literally_ been dreaming about for months was just an arm’s reach away) Jesse crawled beneath the covers and did his best to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which this fic (finally?) earns its Mature rating. I mean... there was that dream sequence really early on, but... well - you'll see what I mean. (And you'll also possibly see why I've been so freaking nervous about posting this chapter... >.>) Anyway, I really hope y'all enjoy it. And if not...? Well... I always try to be open to constructive criticism. :)

* * *

  ** _~ Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse McCree was having a really nice dream.  He was warm and rested and when his eyes came into focus Hanzo Shimada was lying next to him (so close Jesse could feel his body heat) with that expression on his face - the one he liked so much… the one he had yet to figure out.  Mmm, these were the best kinds of dreams.  Yeah, Jesse liked when there was sex… but there was a shared intimacy to the non-sexual ones that he craved even more.  Flickers of lightning gave Hanzo’s skin an ethereal glow, lending his dream an otherworldly feel.  A part of him was tempted to stay where he was... just admire for awhile.  But Hanzo looked so good in the lightning-lit darkness.  Jesse couldn't resist. 

 

“Hey darlin’,” he spoke in a rough, muzzy voice.  Then, without waiting for a response, he reached out and pulled the man in for a soft, slow kiss.

 

Hanzo didn’t respond in kind, instead going stiff in Jesse's gentle grasp.  That… that wasn’t normal.  Not for one of his dreams.  And then came the sudden rush of memories from the previous night… followed by the immediate, sickening realization that he wasn’t dreaming.  Oh… OH SHIT!  He jerked himself back at the same time that Hanzo pushed him away.  SHIT SHIT SHIT!

 

By the time Jesse had scrabbled from the bed and freed himself of tangled covers Hanzo was up and out the kitchen window, leaving it open behind him, raindrops pattering onto the kitchen tile.  In a panic, Jesse followed through the opening, taking the stairs up to the roof two at a time.  “Hanzo! Wait! Hanzo!” he shouted, worried his own booming voice would get lost in the sounds of the storm.  Yeah, realistically, Hanzo had probably gone down to street level.  But Jesse wasn’t thinking all that clearly, and he had this stupid image in his head of the man using his ‘mad ninja skills' to leap away into the night.  

 

Reaching the roof, he turned in a circle as the rain pounded down on him, soaking his clothes.  “Hanzo! Dammit!  I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean…!”  Hell, of course he’d meant it.  He just hadn’t realized he was kissing the ‘real deal.’  “Fuck!  Please come back an’ talk ta me!  Hanzo!”  Jesse’s knees felt weak.  He wanted to just sag down to the ground and stay there.  He’d royally fucked things up.  There wasn’t any coming back from this.  Eyes starting to sting, Jesse tried one more time. “HANZO!”  There was a loud peal of thunder… and then nothing but the sound of steady rain as it fell around him, stinging against his skin.  His heart clenched… and then leaped at the sound of a voice.

“If you continue to shout like that, everyone in the neighborhood will know what we’ve spent months trying to hide."  

 

Jesse whirled at the sound, grinning with relief.  He stepped forward, wanting to embrace the man in his happiness, but stopped abruptly, realizing it would be a mistake.  His expression shifted to chagrin.  “I’m sorry…”

 

“You have already said that.”

 

“An’ I’ll say it over n’ over again.  However many times it takes.”

 

Hanzo walked a little closer and lightning flashed above them.  His hair was loose, rain causing strands to stick haphazardly to his face.  And yet, even wet and bedraggled, Jesse was certain this was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen… ever _would_ see. 

 

“Apologies will change nothing.”

 

Jesse’s heart sank.  Should he be glad Hanzo had returned to deliver the blow in person?  He couldn’t decide.  He felt his shoulders hunch, and it became a struggle not to break down in front of him.  “I ain’t that kinda guy, Han… I wouldn’t ever do somthin’ like that without yer permission-”

 

“But you did."  He was being circled now.  Like Hanzo was worried Jesse might try something again and wanted to stay moving in an attempt to make things harder for him.

 

“I know.  I thought…”  Jesse let out a shuddering sigh, trying unsuccessfully to push dripping bangs out of his face.  “I thought I was dreamin’...”

 

Hanzo actually scoffed at those words.  It was a soft sound, but it shot through Jesse just as any bullet would.  “Dream about me often, do you?”

 

What the hell.  Jesse really couldn’t see how any of this could get worse.  Letting his shoulders sag in defeat, he replied, “All tha damn time.”

 

Hanzo froze in front of him, blinking almost owlishly.  “Is… that so?”

 

Jesse's nod was almost forlorn as he spoke.  “I was half asleep an' not thinkin’ clearly.  I know none a’ that changes things…”  His voice cracked on that last word and he swallowed hard, fighting to regain his composure.  “But thank you... fer givin’ me a chance ta explain… not jus’ runnin’ away."  He held his arms out in a helpless, open gesture.  "So... now ya know how I really feel.  How I’ve felt fer a long time now.  An’ I guess that’s that..."  Not knowing what else to say or do, he turned, heading back towards the fire escape.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

The ex-con faced Hanzo again, hating how much the sight of the other tore at his heart.  “Nothin’ else ta say, is there?  An’ we’re done, right?  Fer good?”  Fuck, just saying the words made the ache in his chest ten times worse.  But what other outcome could there possibly be to this?  Hanzo wasn’t going to keep hanging around when he knew what Jesse really wanted.  How he felt.  He’d ruined everything.  And he needed a drink.

 

“Do not presume to know my thoughts _or_ my will, Jesse McCree.”

 

Jesse barked out a laugh.  He couldn't help himself.  "Darlin', you've been makin' yer feelings on tha subject known fer awhile now."

 

Hanzo moved closer, with purpose, practically stalking towards Jesse in a way that made the man want to back up… but he didn’t.  Instead, he held his ground as Hanzo stopped almost directly in front of him.  “I believe you once said a man was allowed to change his mind."

 

The ex-con blinked.  He remembered those words... had used them when trying to convince Hanzo they could still be friends.  Jesse opened his mouth - more because he felt like he _should_ speak than because he actually had something to say.  But it didn't matter either way because before a word could be uttered, Hanzo’s lips were pressed resolutely against his own.  For a split second, the ex-con froze, unable to think… to process what was happening.  But where his mind failed him, his body took over.  Large arms wrapped around Hanzo’s middle, pulling him closer, and Jesse’s back stooped to give the shorter man better access… to give them _both_ better access.  

 

And there, with the storm around them nearly forgotten, they kissed with the desperation of two people uncertain of whether or not they’d ever get the chance again.

 

Jesse, surprisingly, was the one who finally pulled away.  But he didn’t go far, and he didn’t take his arms from around Hanzo’s waist.

 

“I… I don’ understand,” he said, breathless and more than a little dazed.  Hanzo had that look on his face again… and for the first time Jesse could see it for what it was.  Affection.  For him?

 

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear.  However, if you wish me to do so again…”

 

“No!  I mean… hell, yeah, I do!  But, I think… we need ta talk first.  Don’t we?”  Jesse certainly _wanted_ to talk.  Because fuck if he wasn’t a little lost right now, and having Hanzo so close and so warm was making it awful hard to think clearly.

 

Lightning lit up the sky and he saw Hanzo frown.  But whether it was at his request or at the weather Jesse couldn’t be sure.  “Very well.  But back inside."  

 

With a nod, Jesse made his way to the fire escape, taking the stairs to his kitchen window with extra care due to the wobbly feeling in his knees.  Slipping back into his apartment, he waited for Hanzo to join him before closing and latching the window. They were both soaked to the bone, of course, dripping all over the kitchen floor.  “Go ahead n’ grab a towel from tha bathroom. I’ll bring yer clothes so you can change-”  

 

“I would prefer another set of sleep clothes,” came Hanzo’s quick reply.

 

Jesse eyed him with surprise, but didn’t argue.  “Alright…”  Snagging a towel for himself as he walked past, the man scrubbed it vigorously through his hair as he made his way to the coffee table and relit the candles to give them both some extra light.

 

Once done, his next stop was the closet where he stripped quickly, dried off even faster and then pulled on fresh clothes before taking some for Hanzo.  On the way back, Jesse tossed his wet things in the washer... then stopped dead at the sight of the other man (in nothing but boxer briefs) drying himself off in the bathroom doorway.  Jesse swallowed hard, and then cleared his throat, holding out the things when Hanzo looked up.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He could only nod at first.  “I’m gonna…” Jesse gestured to the couch.

 

“I will join you shortly.”

 

This didn’t feel awkward… just weird.  The more minutes that passed, the easier it was to pretend like nothing had happened.  Like it hadn’t been real.  But hell… not even _he_ was _that_ stupid.  Things were changing… but were they in the ways Jesse wanted?  He wasn’t sure yet.  

 

Taking a seat on the couch, he stared into the flickering candlelight, trying to calm himself for whatever came next.  When Hanzo joined him he didn’t look up right away.

 

“...Jesse?”

 

Blinking, the ex-con finally acknowledged the man sitting beside him.  “Sorry.  I’m jus’... still tryin’ ta process…”

 

“Take your time.”  Hanzo shifted closer, reaching out to place a strong hand on Jesse’s shoulder.  

 

He sighed.  “Ya gotta understand, darlin’...  I want this… want you.  But I need ta make sure we’re on the same page here.”

 

Hanzo’s brow creased.  Worry?  Confusion?  The flickering light and his own spinning emotions made reading the other man difficult.  

 

“I don’t want jus’ one night… or every now an’ then when ya feel like slummin’...”

 

The hand left his shoulder and Jesse suddenly felt cold.  “Is THAT how you think I see you?!”

 

“Dammit, dontcha see…?!  I don’t _know_ how ya see me.  That’s tha problem.  'Til a few minutes ago, I didn' even...”  He broke off, both frustrated and afraid of saying something that could ruin what seemed to be happening.

 

“I want the same things you do,” Hanzo replied in a soft, solemn voice.  “I have… for much longer than you might realize.  However…”

 

Jesse tensed at that word, preparing himself for the worst.

 

“While you are what you are, and while I am what I am..."  A soft beat of silence as Hanzo seemed to be thinking of what to say.  "The things we want are-”

 

“Fuckin' impossible,” Jesse interrupted with a grimace.  “I've never been tha brightest crayon in tha box when it comes ta stuff like this...”

 

Hanzo shook his head... and maybe there was a hint of a smile there.  “I was going to say _difficult_.  You do not give yourself nearly enough credit, Jesse McCree.  We've come this far, have we not?”

  

He couldn’t answer, not just yet.  “You _really_ want this… want me?  Long term?  Regardless of… of everythin’ else?”

 

“I do.”

 

“...why?”  There was honesty in the question.  Jesse really didn’t understand what he had to offer the other man.

 

Hanzo seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then took a deep breath and replied, “Because you treat me in ways no one else does.  To you, I am not a stepping stone or a pawn to be played in some power game.  You make me feel like I have worth beyond the realm of my family and its machinations.  And I… I like who I am when I’m with you.”

 

Jesse sucked in a sharp breath at the admission, barely believing it.  Without a word, Hanzo shifted to slide himself gracefully onto Jesse’s lap, straddling him so that they faced each other.  He leaned in so close that the ex-con could feel the brush of the other man’s lips against his own.  “I want you for all of these reasons and more, Jesse McCree."

 

He knew the doubt still shadowed his face.  Fuck... he'd wanted this - wanted Hanzo - for so long, but what if...?

 

"Allow me to convince you."  And then Hanzo was kissing him again, pressing Jesse back into the couch… taking him over in every way that mattered.  

 

Jesse took a leap of faith... and allowed himself to let go.  His grip on the other’s hips tightened, pulling Hanzo closer until the man was pressed up against him.  Groaning into the kiss, Jesse’s hands found their way underneath the borrowed shirt, exploring taut abdominal muscles.  His fingers stroked across skin still cool from the rain, marveling at the feel.  He’d touched Hanzo so many times… but this was different… this was…!

 

Thoughts were forced to refocus when Jesse felt Hanzo’s tongue swipe over his lips.  Instinctively, his hips rolled in response, mouth opening to allow the other’s tongue to push inside and begin exploring.  Jesse’s muffled chuckle reverberated between them as Hanzo’s tongue wrapped around his own and he responded in kind.  The other man tasted like rain… and spice… and Jesse couldn’t get enough!  He’d wanted this for so long!  Literally dreamed about it!  And now…!

 

There was perfection in the way Hanzo kissed him... the way his hands carded through Jesse’s damp hair.  It felt foreign and familiar all at the same time - like his body already knew what his mind was still processing.  Another muffled moan pushed past his lips and Jesse pulled Hanzo’s hips into his with more force, seeking contact… and friction.

 

That got a reaction.  Though not the one he’d intended.  Hanzo pulled back with a small smirk.  “Impatient, are we?”

 

“Darlin’, I been waitin’ fer this longer than you have any idea.  I think I earned tha right to a little impatience.”

 

Hanzo chuckled.  “You are not alone in that wait.  However, I intended to savor this, Jesse McCree.  To savor _you_."  As he spoke, hands maneuvered underneath Jesse’s shirt and began to pull up.  He raised his arms to help, eager to have the other’s hands on his bare skin. The shirt was quickly tossed aside as manicured nails teased down Jesse’s chest.

 

“Fair’s fair,” he teased, tugging at Hanzo’s shirt next.  The words earned him another smirk as the man pulled off his own top, too.  Mmm… that was more like it!  Jesse’s eyes roamed over Hanzo’s bare skin.  Yeah, of course he’d seen it before.  But he’d never been allowed to just… _look_.  Not like this.

 

Without really thinking about it, he leaned forward and took one dark nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue back and forth slowly.  Lips curled around the nub as he heard (and felt) Hanzo’s sharp intake of breath. The hands in his hair tightened… almost painfully, but Jesse didn’t mind.  He wanted this... wanted to watch Hanzo finally come undone.  Oh yeah, one way or another, he planned to have this man calling his name before the sun rose.

 

“Jesse…”  It was barely a whisper as the other man buried his face in Jesse’s hair, but it was a start.  He licked harder, occasionally letting his teeth graze the sensitive skin.  He felt Hanzo’s breaths coming faster now, legs trembling as if the man was doing all he could to resist the urge to roll his hips.

 

The ex-con pulled back, lips ghosting over flesh as he spoke.  “Don’ hold back, darlin’.  We both want this… jus’ let go.”

 

“I am not holding back; each moment deserves to be committed to memory."  With care, he pushed Jesse back so that they were staring into each other’s eyes.  “We won’t be able to do this often. I want to take my time with this… with you.”

 

Although there was no plea in the other man’s voice, Jesse heard it all the same.  He understood… or thought he did. Hanzo’s actions only served to reinforce the idea that this wasn’t just an itch he needed to scratch.  This was important to him.  That realization actually made Jesse feel guilty for wanting to rush things.  “Believe me,” he replied with a chuckle, “when we get through here, you ain’t gonna be gettin’ me outta yer head for a long while.  Gonna put myself in yer dreams every night… jus’ like ya been in mine.”

 

Hanzo chuckled, one brow arching almost playfully.  “And what makes you think you aren’t already there?”

 

That question (and the look on Hanzo’s face as he asked it) made Jesse’s cock twitch.  Was it possible?!  Had the other man been fantasizing about him, _too_?!  “Han…”  But he didn’t get to finish his words as Hanzo took his mouth in another heated kiss.  This time (in unplanned unison) their hips rolled, cocks connecting and sliding against each other through soft fabric.  Jesse moaned and Hanzo used the opportunity to deepen their kiss once again.

 

Jesse’s hands clasped onto his lover’s hips, holding him in place as he thrust up again.  Not fast or hard… he was trying to be good, after all.  It was a slow, sweet roll, creating just enough friction to make his nerve endings shiver in anticipation.  With a muffled sound, Hanzo pressed Jesse back further into the couch, and this time it was his hips doing the thrusting - hard and sharp… and filled with promises.

 

For awhile, they lost themselves in their kisses, hands clenching and stroking at bits of bare skin… leaving eventual bruises in their wake.  Now and then one of them would offer the other a lazy roll of hips, and Jesse realized with more than a little surprise, that even if they didn’t get any further than this tonight, he’d be content.  Just having Hanzo like this - finally knowing how the other man felt - that would actually be enough for now.

 

As if reading his mind and wanting to prove him wrong, Hanzo chose that moment to pull away, eliciting a sound from Jesse that he would forever deny was a whimper of protest.  They were both breathing heavily as Hanzo asked, “Do you have… supplies?”

 

His mind was so hazy with his own muddled thoughts it took Jesse a second longer than normal to realize what the other man meant.  Nodding, he inclined his head behind him towards the bed.  “Nightstand…”  His eyes drifted down to Hanzo’s tented pants, small smirk forming on his lips.  “Should fit jus’ fine…”  Then quickly, because they hadn't really discussed that yet, he continued, “If that’s what ya want…”

 

Hanzo’s expression seemed a little surprised.  “I thought… you might not…”

 

“I jus’ wanna be here with you, darlin,’”  Jesse tried to reassure him.  “Don’t matter how…  It’s all gonna feel damn good.”

 

That earned him one of those beautiful, fleeting smiles and a soft kiss that made Jesse’s chest flutter in ways he wasn’t sure it ever had.  Damn, how could one person make him so happy with just the simplest of actions?

 

“In that case… why are we still on the couch?”

 

Jesse snorted, rolling his eyes as he laughed.  “Now who’s bein’ impatient?”

 

Hanzo didn’t reply - not in words.  Instead he smirked and thrust his hips forward with purpose.  Caught off guard as their cocks forcefully connected, Jesse gasped, arching up into the sensation almost on instinct.

 

“Keep doin’ that an’ we might not make it to tha bed,” he teased, hands kneading at the other man’s hips

 

This time, in reply, Hanzo looked over Jesse’s shoulder and stared pointedly at the bed only a few feet away before looking back at Jesse and arching a single brow in amused disagreement.  “If that is truly a comment on your stamina I am going to be highly disappointed."  He was trying to make himself sound serious, but there was obvious teasing in Hanzo’s tone.

 

Laughing, Jesse replied, “Disappointin’ ya is tha last thing I plan ta do.”  

 

“And yet, we’re still on the couch.”

 

Jesse snorted.  “Alright then, challenge accepted."  And then - without any warning - he stood up.

 

Hanzo reacted exactly how he’d anticipated.  And the man was fast!  As Jesse stood, legs which had been straddling him shifted to wrap with ease around his midsection while Hanzo’s arms quickly encircled Jesse’s neck for support.  For his part, the ex-con had hold of the other man’s thighs, cradling them in large hands. He hadn’t really wanted Hanzo to fall out of his lap, after all.  “Lookit that,” he teased.  “Already movin’ in perfect unison.  Darlin’, I don’ think either of us is gonna be disappointed t’night.”

 

Hanzo was close enough that even in the candlelit darkness, Jesse saw his cheeks flush, and the sight had him grinning as he carried Hanzo over to the bed.  “Now what?” he asked with a laugh as they continued to hold each other.

 

With a level of grace Jesse had only ever seen from Hanzo, the man unwrapped his legs and settled himself back on his own two feet.  “This..."  He tugged on the drawstring of Jesse’s sweatpants and the ex-con felt his cock twitch eagerly in response.

 

“Go on, darlin’...”

 

Permission given, Hanzo tugged the fabric from Jesse’s hips; it snagged briefly on his erect cock, eliciting a sharp gasp of pleasure, and then the pants were down around his ankles and being kicked aside.  Rich, brown eyes swept across his bare skin and Jesse reveled in the attention.  “Like what ya see?” he couldn’t help teasing.

 

The other man nodded, tongue darting out to briefly wet his lips.  Jesse shivered at the sight.  “Just as I remember…”

 

Remember?  For a second Jesse was confused… and then he realized what Hanzo meant.  That first night!  So!  Hanzo HAD been looking!  Even then?!  He wanted to tease, but something about the moment felt too fragile for it.  But later…?  Oh, yeah - he wasn’t going to let that tidbit of knowledge go untapped.  “Mmm, old memories…  Let’s make some new ones," he replied instead, reaching to hook his thumbs into the elastic band of Hanzo’s borrowed pants.

 

The fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination… not when Hanzo was so obviously aroused, but as Jesse pulled them off and down, he found himself holding his breath as the other’s cock was finally revealed.  It was so easy to imagine that length inside of him.  Hell… he HAD imagined it… dreamed it, too.  But now… now it was actually happening…!  “My dreams ain’t done you justice, darlin.’"  The words were low, murmured softly as he stepped closer, bringing their lengths into contact.  Jesse wrapped a gentle hand around both of them and gave a few slow strokes. Hanzo’s breathing sped up and his head dropped to Jesse’s shoulder.  Not that the ex-con could blame him… it felt damn good!  Like he’d been waiting his whole life for it… which sounded sentimental and sappy as hell, but how it sounded didn’t change the way he felt.

 

His other arm wrapped around Hanzo’s waist, keeping him close - not because he was worried the man might move away… but because it felt good to have him in his arms this way… and because he liked feeling the tremble of Hanzo’s muscles as he tried to control and contain his own pleasure.  Jesse found himself glad the other man had stressed savoring things.  It wasn’t his normal style… but it felt right.  Taking their time with each moment meant he’d have more to remember later, when Hanzo couldn’t be around.  As he stroked, one of Hanzo’s hands joined his own, squeezing, applying more pressure to the motions.  The ex-con's knees start to tremble a little, and his own breaths were coming quicker now.  This felt amazing!  But there wasn't any harm in trying to nudge the other a bit... was there?

 

“I could do this all night, darlin’,” he whispered into Hanzo’s hair.  “But I think we both want somethin’ more.  You ready…?”  

 

Almost immediately, Hanzo’s grip loosened and slipped away.  He looked up at Jesse with an expression that held lust, and love, and that signature smirk.  “I am ready, Jesse.”

 

There’d been a time when Jesse would’ve yearned to wipe that smug smirk off of Hanzo’s face… but now, coupled with those other emotions, it made the ex-con feel almost giddy.  Grinning, he let go, too, then took a slow step back, eyes admiring Hanzo from head to foot.  “Ya definitely _look_ ready,” he couldn’t help teasing.

 

Hanzo snorted, flashed a smile, and then put one hand firmly on Jesse’s chest... and pushed.

 

The bed protested loudly as he fell back onto it.  Jesse, on the other hand, was grinning broadly as he rearranged himself on the covers.  

 

“ _You_ don’t look ready _enough_ ,” came Hanzo’s reply.  Dark eyes darted to the nightstand drawer.  “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

 

Jesse wasn’t the kind of guy many people were interested in man-handling… even in the bedroom.  As he stared up at Hanzo, the ex-con found himself eagerly anticipating what came next.  Yeah, if he were honest, a part of him wished the other would relinquish some of that control he seemed to hold so dear, but Jesse was willing to move in baby steps.  Hell, he figured it’d been hard enough for the guy to admit he wanted this at all, so he wouldn’t expect anything more… not yet.  But he _did_ want to see more of Hanzo’s barriers fall, and he wanted to be the reason they crumbled.

 

Watching as the other man pulled a half-used bottle of lube and a condom from the drawer, Jesse grinned and positioned himself on the bed.  His large legs were splayed out - just far enough to be both enticing and inviting. Both arms were above him, hands clasped just under his head to form a sort of pillow.  It was also an excellent way to show off his abs. The grin on his face got wider as Hanzo paused, hovering beside the bed with supplies in hand, and just stared at him.  Jesse’s insides twisted with pleasure under that penetrating gaze.

 

“Darlin’, while I got no complaints ‘bout bein’ ravished by yer eyes… I was kinda hopin’ for a little more than that.”

 

His words seemed to pull Hanzo back to the present… and Jesse was almost sorry he’d spoken, instantly missing the expression.  “Before the night is over, you are going to learn patience, Jesse McCree.”

 

The ex-con chuckled as Hanzo joined him on the bed, kneeling between Jesse’s legs.  “Aww, c’mon… no need ta punish me.  I’ll be good.  Promise."  He batted his eyelashes, still grinning.

 

“This is not punishment, merely another form of pleasure,” Hanzo replied.  “You will learn that, too."  Then he leaned forward, hands stroking gently down the length of Jesse’s body - from collar to hip bone.  The ex-con arched into the touch, breath hitching as Hanzo’s nails left pale red marks on his skin.

 

“Mmm… that’s real good, Han…”  

 

“It is only the beginning."  His hand wrapped around Jesse’s length stroking several times from root to tip, and the ex-con left out a soft moan.  He was tempted to let his eyes close - to focus on the sensation - but he didn’t want to miss seeing everything Hanzo had planned for him.  “Spread your legs wider for me,” Hanzo ordered, tone gentle.

 

Jesse obeyed without a second thought.

 

“Good… just like that."  Hanzo squeezed some of the lube into his hand, giving it a few seconds to warm up before moving to stroke across the ex-con’s entrance.  Jesse inhaled sharply at the sensation and resisted the urge to buck his hips.  That slick finger circled around and around SO slowly, and just as Jesse was about to demand more, it pushed inside of him.  

 

“Mmm, that’s it...!” he murmured, muscles contracting in anticipation of more.  “Keep goin’, darlin’...”

 

As Hanzo worked his finger deeper, Jesse had no trouble relaxing against it, and when it began to move in and out of him with rhythm, his hips lazily moved to meet it.  He wasn’t expecting the second finger so abruptly, and when it happened, Jesse’s hips bucked hard, and a soft cry (that sounded like a strangled, ‘Fuck!’) left his lips.  Hanzo didn’t react except to hum in seeming approval at the ex-con’s reaction.  Then the fingers sped up a little, twisting this way and that in an effort to prepare him.

 

“Han… this is good enough… promise,” Jesse protested breathlessly as his hips twitched.  

 

“You may be ready,” came the reply.  “But I am not."  His fingers continued to move within him.  Were they maybe a little faster now, or was that just wishful thinking?

 

Jesse moaned.  “But yer not tha one who’s…”  He didn't finish the sentence.  Or rather, couldn’t.  Because at that exact moment, Hanzo managed to find the soft, spongy bit of flesh hidden within him, and all words broke off in a sharp, gasping groan of pleasure.  “Ah, fuck!”  Precome left slick trails down his cock as he struggled to maintain control.  “Han…!  C’mon… please!”  Now that the fingers had found his spot, Hanzo was aiming for it with each thrust as Jesse practically writhed beneath him.  His hands had moved from behind his head to his sides, fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheets… but only because they couldn't reach anything else.  

 

“Mmm… you beg very well, Jesse McCree, but I am still not finished…”

 

The ex-con opened his mouth to ask what Hanzo could possible have in mind (beyond fucking him senseless) but never got the chance.  His mind blew a momentary fuse as the other man's hand wrapped back around him and began to slowly stroke him.  He was trying so hard to maintain control... right up until those skilled fingers surged forward and Jesse nearly lost it then and there.  It was just too much!  HANZO was too much.  “Hanzo, please…” he tried again, chest rising and falling in uneven patterns.  “I don’ wanna come alone… not tha firs’ time.”

 

Something that might’ve been understanding flashed across Hanzo’s expression, and he gently released Jesse's cock.  “That is a wish worthy of honoring."  Fingers withdrew, as well, and Jesse bit back the urge to demand Hanzo put them back in.  He just… he felt so empty.  But he didn’t have to worry about it for long.  Slipping a condom on with ease, Hanzo added a few strokes of additional lube to the outside, and then positioned himself between Jesse’s legs.  “You are, without a doubt, the most impatient, infuriating man I have ever met.”

 

“Maybe,” Jesse replied with a smirk, shivering as he felt the tip of Hanzo’s cock brush against his entrance.  “But I’m _your_ man.  That’s gotta count fer somethin’, right?”

 

“Indeed it does,” was Hanzo's only reply as he slowly pushed into him, not stopping until he was as deep as he could get.  “Mine and no one else’s.”

 

Jesse was trying to normalize his breathing - without much success - but managed a series of quick nods as his body worked to adjust to the welcome intrusion.

 

With a smug grin, Hanzo moved, pulling out just as slowly as he’d pushed in.

 

“D-dammit, Han!”

 

“Something wrong, Jesse?  This _is_ what you wanted, isn’t it…?”  He moved forward again, still slow, and fuck if it didn’t feel good!  But Jesse was ready for so much more!

 

“You…” he gasped, having trouble focusing on actual words.  “Yer a fuckin’ tease!”

 

“Mmm… so it would seem.  Having second thoughts?”

 

Jesse grinned up at Hanzo and shook his head.  “Not in a million years.  C’mere…!”  Arms wrapping around his neck, he pulled the man down for a hard kiss… a kiss which lingered as Hanzo continued to slide so very slowly in and out.  Pleasure rippled off of Jesse in waves.  This was new… and felt surprisingly good!  He was used to frenzied, lust-centric sex, and he’d honestly expected his first time with Hanzo to be similar.  They’d both wanted this for so long that it only made sense.  And yet, here they were - fucking soft and slow - taking their time to explore and experience.  He realized, too, that the pleasure was still slowly building.  By taking things slow, he’d expected the desire to trickle away.  Instead, the exact opposite was happening.  With each press of Hanzo’s lips against this own, with each slow thrust, he felt himself lose control just a little more.  

 

And then the ex-con felt a warm hand slide between then and wrap around his cock again.  A shudder of pure need ran through him as Hanzo gently began to stroke and squeeze.  “That’s it…” Hanzo coaxed as Jesse’s hips carefully found the right rhythm between thrusts and strokes.  “Just like that… let the sensations slowly take you over."  There was a shudder to Hanzo’s voice… and a huskiness.  For the first time Jesse realized that the other man was experiencing the same slow build that he was.  The only difference was Hanzo seemed skilled at masking it… although Jesse was confused as to why he would.  Didn’t the other man want him to see how he felt?  Want him to know he was enjoying himself?  

 

The ripples of pleasure were getting more erratic now and Jesse had to stop thinking in order to focus on keeping his movements rhythmic.  Even then, he wasn’t very good at it.

 

“It-it’s too much…!” he tried to protest.  “I c…”

 

“You can,” Hanzo reassured, never losing his own pace.  “Not much longer now… I can feel your body beginning to come undone…”

 

“Mmm… that so?” Jesse asked, voice rough with his own need.  Reaching up, he stroked Hanzo’s cheek. “What about you, darlin’?  Can’t seem ta read ya at all right now. What can I do to make ya feel how I’m feelin’?”

 

Hanzo seemed genuinely surprised by the question.  It actually made their mutual rhythm falter - if only for a moment.  “You… are already doing it,” he replied, and the confusion was apparent in his voice.  Then Hanzo leaned in close, lips pressed next to Jesse’s ear.  “I have never taken anyone to my bed who was capable of so quickly bringing me to the edge of my control.  You are a first for me, Jesse McCree… and I am enjoying every minute of this.  His lips then brushed along Jesse’s jaw, mouths eventually meeting in a kiss that was both tender and desperate - as if Hanzo was trying to prove the truth of what he’d said.  Jesse let those words sink in, allowing the kiss to deepen, tongues intertwining as their speed seemed to increase… if only a fraction.

 

His hands dragged over the other man’s back, keeping him close while enjoying the feel of those trembling muscles.  _Trembling_.  Hanzo _was_ losing control.  Jesse could see it now - feel it - those subtleties he’d missed before because doubts were clouding his observational skills.  Just like it had taken Jesse months to learn to read the nuances of the other man’s emotions, it seemed that sex between them might be the same way.  And he was alright with that… for now.  Getting Hanzo to open up during sex would be more fun than riling him up had ever been - of that he was certain.

 

All in good time.  Right now, his worries dealt with, all Jesse wanted was to lose himself in everything he was feeling - Hanzo’s mouth stealing his breath away, his hand gliding expertly up and down over his aching cock, and the feel of Hanzo thrusting in and out with each sweet, slow roll of hips.  A shiver started within him, coming from everywhere and nowhere, and with it the pleasure seemed to build.  Jesse broke their kiss when he felt it start to crest. “H-hanzo… I...!”  

 

“So soon?” the other man teased, his voice tender.  Obviously meant as a joke because Jesse was certain they’d been at this for at least an hour… maybe more.

 

Jesse’s pride almost had him holding out, but at the last minute he changed his mind.  Hanzo swore that his reactions were doing things to him… now came the real test of that.  Just how much power did Jesse have here?  Only one way to find out.  Could his own release take Hanzo over the edge with him?  The ripples became waves - surging forward faster and faster - breaking against his insides and instead of trying to fight against them, Jesse let go.

 

His orgasm was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.  Yeah, that might be a cheap thing to say… but anything else would've been a lie.  Usually he came quickly, there were a small handful of pleasurable ‘aftershocks’, and then it was over.  Not this time.  The orgasm happened in slow, rolling pulses of pleasure, his insides contracting sharply with each burst, each one making Hanzo gasp above him as muscles constricted around his still-moving cock.  That sweet sound alone had the ex-con’s heart soaring… and everything still felt like pure pleasure!  “Oh god… oh fuck…!” he moaned, clutching at Hanzo’s shoulders like a lifeline.  He could feel his body falling slowly towards aftershocks… but this wasn’t over.  Not yet.  He had a point to make (although mostly to himself.)

 

“Hanzo…” he murmured, voice fluctuating erratically as pleasure continued to thrum through him.  One of Jesse’s hands moved to card through the other’s hair, tugging gently as he stared up at the man who’d somehow stolen away every part of him.  Hanzo returned his gaze, the expression on his face almost anticipatory.  “I n-need ya ta come, darlin’… need ta feel it.  Before I’m… before... P-please…?”

 

Jesse felt bunched shoulder muscles go even tighter… and he almost (almost) regretted their choice to use a condom.  Mmm… something to look forward to at a later date. Hanzo’s thrusts became not only erratic, but harder… faster, too.  Several times he struck Jesse’s prostate, and the ex-con cried out, hips bucking hard in response, his own subsiding pleasure almost painful in its intensity.  Gripping hard enough to leave bruises, he rode out the ends of his own orgasm with the beginnings of Hanzo’s, still trying to wrap his mind around just how good everything had felt… still felt.

 

Soon after, Hanzo collapsed on top of him, breathing heavy, and Jesse noticed for the first time that he could see light beginning to appear behind the covered windows.  Strong arms wrapped around the man above him, as if not wanting to relinquish this new-found thing between them to the dawning of a new day.  “Please tell me ya don’t hafta go runnin’ off,” Jesse murmured.

 

In response, Hanzo hummed, and the sound reverberated through Jesse in a way that made him feel giddy.  Or maybe that was just the afterglow… he really wasn’t sure.

 

“That a no?” he asked, a low laugh shaking both of them softly.

 

Hanzo shifted, and Jesse let out an unconscious gasp as he felt the man move inside of him.  His reaction made Hazo smirk.  “I will stay,” he finally replied.  "But we should clean up first, I think…”

 

Jesse nodded, feeling relieved that the other wanted to stick around.  “Happy ta take care a’ that… if ya ever feel like gettin’ offa me."  The last part was said with a huge grin that earned him a soft snort from Hanzo before the man carefully pulled out and rolled to the side to deal with the spent condom.  For a second, Jesse just stayed there… feeling so empty that it kind of hurt.  Was this what it was going to feel like from now on when Hanzo wasn’t around?  He didn’t think he liked it.

 

“McCree…?”  And then, when he didn’t respond, “Jesse?”  A hand fell onto his shoulder, squeezing softly.  

 

He tried to laugh it off.  “Sorry, darlin’... jus’ thinkin’ too hard.  Hang on…”  He slid to the edge of the bed and sat up.  “Be right back ta get us both clean enough fer sleepin’.”

 

Jesse decided it was best not to dwell too much on the future.  For this relationship to have a chance, they needed to look at things one day at a time.  No ‘what-ifs’ or possible future scenarios.  Enjoy each day as it came.  That was what mattered for now.

 

He was still telling himself that later, after they were clean and warm and resting in each other’s arms.  Fortunately, he was also completely worn out, so sleep claimed the ex-con quickly, his dreams managing to keep his worries away for at least a little longer.


	12. Chapter 12

* * *

**_~ The Next Morning ~_ **

* * *

 

When Jesse woke again, the aches in his body quickly brought back memories of how the previous night had gone.  He smiled, taking note of the fact that Hanzo was currently splayed halfway across his chest.  Damn… he could get real used to this real fast.  Not being able to spend more time with the man was going to drive him crazy.  Oh - he’d manage; he had to, right?  But maybe it was time to talk to Jack about any ideas the officer might have to help Jesse out with the parole board.  As he pondered the thought, Hanzo began to stir.

 

“Mornin’, darlin’,” Jesse said, his voice somewhere between a sleepy rumble and a purr.  “Looks like tha power’s back on… don’t s’pose you’ve got time for a late breakfast?”  His tattooed hand stroked lightly over bare skin, a subtle and almost unconscious motion.

 

Hanzo hummed, shifting just enough so that their eyes met.  “I will if I reschedule some of my plans for the morning.  What did you have in mind?”

 

In his chest, Jesse’s heart did a little flip-flop.  He was willing to reschedule other plans?  For him?!  And then realization struck.  Of course he was.  He’d done it before, hadn’t he?  Like the time Hanzo showed up in that amazing suit.  Or the time he went out and got Jesse food after his terrible parole hearing.  Yeah… Hanzo had just never come right out and said that’s what he was doing… until now.  The realization made him feel warm… and hopeful.  “Well… thought I might cook us somethin’?  That would give ya a chance to get yer plans changed an' grab a shower if ya want one…”

 

He didn’t miss the slight flicker of surprise that crossed Hanzo’s face when he offered to cook.  But he also didn’t mind it.  Jesse accepted they still had a lot to learn about each other… but it would come with time.  And he was okay with that.

 

Finally, Hanzo spoke, and his tone was (to Jesse’s surprise) almost teasing.  “If you can promise that whatever you fix will be at least _mostly_ edible… then I will stay.”

 

Jesse laughed - couldn’t help himself.  “Yer settin’ tha bar kinda low there aren’t ya, darlin’?  If I didn’ know any better, I’d think I could feed ya charcoal an’ ya wouldn’ blink an eye.”

 

“Is it wrong to seek out excuses to stay?”

 

Although he couldn’t tell if the question was rhetorical or not, Jesse replied.  “Not exactly, naw… but ya don’t need excuses anymore, Han.  Not with me."  He reached up and carded one hand gently through Hanzo’s hair.  

 

“Not excuses for you,” the other replied with a grim smile, leaning into Jesse’s hand.  “For myself.  To ease my own conscious when I shirk my duties in order to be here.  With you.”

 

“Ah… well… guess that’s different, I s’pose."  Jesse hesitated.  “That’s… not gonna get ya in trouble is it?”

 

Hanzo looked genuinely surprised by the ex-con’s concern; then he smiled and shook his head.  “No.  The only one I answer to is my father.  And he does not find fault with me easily.  Genji and I… we have always been his greatest weakness.”

 

Jesse snorted.  His tone was more teasing than mean… but he probably came off sounding a little more miffed than he intended as he replied,  “You hear yerself, right?  Callin’ a man’s caring ‘bout his family a weakness?  Lemme tell ya, I’d give a helluva lot fer a dad like that…”

 

“I meant no disrespect,” Hanzo reassured in a solemn tone.  “Not to my father or to you.  I was simply stating a fact.  In my world, anything that can be used against you…”

 

“Is a weakness,” Jesse finished.  “Yeah, I get it…”  He hesitated, then asked, “So… what’s that make me?”

 

This time Hanzo’s smile was sad as he pushed himself up enough so that he could lean over Jesse, kissing him softly.  “It makes you someone worth protecting.”

 

The ex-con gaped.  Worth protecting…?  He didn’t have a way to respond to that.

 

Hanzo filled the silence with, “I seem to recall you promising me breakfast.”

 

Still waiting for his heart to calm down in his chest, Jesse grinned, nodding.  “You got it, darlin’.  Lemme jus’ grab a shower and then I’ll cook you up the best batch of huevos rancheros you ever had."  The look on Hanzo’s face told him the man had never heard of the breakfast dish before and didn’t want to admit it.  The assumption was confirmed (in his eyes) when Hanzo simply nodded, and then expertly changed the subject by asking, “Does your shower have room for two?”  Jesse chuckled.  “For you, darlin’, I’ll make room."  Then he stole a kiss and slipped out of the bed, motioning for Hanzo to follow him.

 

* * *

**_~  Three Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

 

“Earth to Jesse!  Anybody home?”

 

A hand moved unexpectedly in front of his face, making Jesse jump back from the register.  The stool beneath him tipped precariously and his arms shot out, waggling in a comedic fashion as he tried to stay upright.  “Fuckin’ hell, Torb!” he cried out, hands finally latching onto the counter to steady himself as the older man chuckled.

 

“Whoever you’ve got it so bad for, lad, you should tell them.  Before it starts to interfere with your work.  I was talking for a good 20 seconds there; bet you didn’t hear a word of it.”

 

He hadn’t.  Jesse groaned and ran a hand over his face.  “Not thinkin’ ‘bout anyone.  Jus’ tired is all."  Which was an utter lie, of course. It’d been almost a month and he couldn’t get Hanzo out of his mind.  It was good… and also terrible.

 

“If you say so."  Torbjorn gave him a wink.  “In that case, maybe I should take care of the next customer?”  He nodded towards the door as the bell jingled… and Jesse was met with a familiar (if unexpected) face.  

 

“Jean?!”

 

The dark-skinned man waved as the door swung closed behind him, offering Jesse that signature smile… the one that kind of made him melt in ways he instantly felt guilty for feeling.  But damn if it didn't bring back some good memories...

 

To the side, Torb chuckled.  “I’ll take that to mean you’ve recovered.  I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

 

“Hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this,” Jean-Baptiste was saying as the older man walked away.  “Things seemed rough for you the last time we spoke.  And then I thought, maybe it was time for me to get that tattoo we talked about.  So here I am." He smiled again, holding his arms out in an open, casual gesture.

 

Jesse felt another twinge of guilt… only this time he wasn’t exactly sure why.  What he’d had with the bartender hadn’t been serious; they’d both acknowledged that from the beginning… but Jean was still a nice guy, and he hadn't deserved Jesse just up and disappearing on him like that.  “I got a hundred an’ one excuses fer that,” the ex-con replied with a sheepish smile.  “An’ not one sounds good enough right now.”

 

Jean chuckled.  “Well, I’ve got some free time on my hands… and I'm ready to talk body art.  So, that should be plenty of time to decide which excuse you want to use.  And maybe tell me whether or not that _problem_ you had managed to work itself out?”

 

“Boy did it ever!” Jesse couldn’t help replying as a smirk tugged at his lips.  “But… it’s still complicated.  I can’t…”  He glanced around quickly, suddenly worried Reyes might be nearby.

 

“Say no more, my friend.  Sometimes secrecy is part of the fun, no?”

 

With a small frown, Jesse shook his head and lowered his voice.  “Naw… not in this case.  I’ve been dyin’ for someone ta talk to ‘bout everythin’...  someone _real_.  But it ain’t that easy…”  And then he realized maybe it could be.  He’d known Jean for awhile now… they were friends.  And the guy had a past he didn’t like to talk about any more than Jesse, which meant he got the importance of keeping secrets.  So, maybe…?

 

“Ah, secrecy that has a purpose.  _That_ I also understand.  But perhaps it will not always be so?”

 

The ex-con’s smile was rueful.  “That’s what I’m hopin’, but it’s hard ta say.  An’ even once I _can_ say more… tha people I been keepin’ things from probably won’t be too happy about it."  He eyed Jean for a long moment.  “Though… now that I’m thinkin’ on it… Don’t s’pose you’d be willin’ ta…?  The thing is, yer jus’ about the only person I know well enough ta tell without worryin’...”

 

Jean’s smile was back and it was almost blinding.  “We been friends awhile now, no?  I’ll gladly listen… especially if it means I get to hear more of the story behind your mystery man.”

 

Saying no to that smile was an impossibility (even if he’d wanted to, which he didn’t.)  It was time to start treating Jean like the friend that he was.  Besides, call Jesse a sap, but he wanted to be able to share how happy he was with someone.  “Alright, yer on." He glanced toward the back room.  “But not here… let’s talk ‘bout that tattoo a’ yours, see what we can work up.  Tha rest can wait.”

 

“Agreed."  Then without skipping a beat (because Jean really _did_ understand) he said, “I liked some of the designs you had on the napkin… you still have that by any chance?”

 

“Well, a’course!  I don’t go throwin’ away my art, not if there’s a way ta save it."  Jesse scrunched up his nose, thinking hard. “Pretty sure it’s at home, though.  How ‘bout we grab some coffee after I get off work?  There’s one a’ those ol’ fashioned diners right around the corner from my place - _Route 66_.  It’ll give us a chance ta talk 'bout tattoos an'...  other things.”

 

Jean gave the ex-con a less-than-subtle wink, a wide grin, and finger guns.  “Sounds like a date.  I’ll see you there around, say, 10 o’clock?”

 

“10,” Jesse agreed as the other man waved and then headed out the door.  He sighed as the bell jingled and the latch caught.  Just that little bit of small talk had lightened his spirits.  The bartender had always been damn good at that, and he was looking forward to finally being able to share everything with someone who understood… and wouldn’t judge.

 

The rest of Jesse’s shift went quickly, and after he and Torb had locked up, he hustled home to grab a couple of his sketchbooks and then headed back out again.  Jean was right on time and they snagged a booth in the back to give them some privacy.  Not that it mattered too much.  Although offering 24 hour service, the diner was known for its early bird crowd, not its night owls.  They had the place practically to themselves, which made it that much easier for Jesse to relax enough to tell his friend everything from start to finish.  Okay - almost everything - there was no way he was giving up details of his first time with Hanzo to anyone.  That was way too private… even for someone who’d known him as intimately as Jean had.

* * *

**_~  Later ~_ **

* * *

As he wrapped things up with a somewhat hopeless sigh, the other man chuckled and shook his head.

 

“You are playing with fire, my friend.”

 

Jesse focused on his sketchbook, where he’d been doodling a small Asian dragon.  “Don’t I know it...”

 

“However… I believe the real question you must ask yourself is this.  Is he worth the risk of getting burned?”

 

The question was a serious one, and had the ex-con looking up to meet Jean’s gaze.  “I… I think so?  Gettin’ him ta open up is damn hard.  But… we’re good t’gether… could be amazing!  Given time… an’ a change of circumstances.”

 

Jean arched an amused brow.

 

“Okay, okay - _several_ changes of circumstance."  Jesse sighed, fiddling with the pencil he’d been using to sketch with.  “Am I bein’ stupid ‘bout this?  Hopin’ he might be willin’ ta do somthin’ different with his life… fer me?”

 

Jean’s shrug was apologetic.  “This is a question I cannot answer.  However - I saw how you were when you thought this man was unreachable, and I see you as you are now.  And I think to myself that you seem more… comfortable in your own skin.”

 

Leaning back, the ex-con eyed his friend across the table.  “I ain’t felt this happy in a long time… maybe since before prison,” he admitted.

 

“Then I think you have your answer, no?” Jean asked with a smile and a playful arch of his brow.

 

Jesse chuckled, reaching up to ruffle a hand through his hair.  “Yeah… guess so. This feelin’... it’s worth chasin’ after.  Even if it gets me in a little trouble along tha way.”

 

“If you should ever need my assistance with… sneaking around, just ask.  I will see what I can manage for you.”

 

A laugh rumbled through the ex-con.  “I may be more likely ta need alibis,” he (mostly) joked.  

 

“A service I can also provide,” Jean replied without missing a beat.

 

It floored Jesse a little that the bartender was so willing to help him… so accepting of the fluctuating dynamics of their own relationship.  “Sometimes… I ain’t sure I deserve you,” he said softly, looking back down at the half-finished tattoo design in his sketchbook.

 

Jean just laughed, waving a hand as if to shoo the comment away.  “If Genji were here, he would tell you to stop flattering me…”

 

“’Cause yer head’s already swelled enough,” Jesse finished with his own bark of laughter.  

 

Nodding, Jean tapped at the sketchbook, “Come now, let us see if we can settle on something tonight so that I can finally get some of your art onto my skin.”

 

They’d been discussing design options for a good hour when the sound of a whipcrack had Jesse pulling out his phone.  “Sorry… hang on…”

 

Hanzo!  AKA Sugar Pie.  He’d changed it from Asshat a week or so  ago - mostly because it made him grin, but also because he could just imagine the man’s sound of feigned indignation if he ever saw it.  

 

“From the grin on your face,” Jean said, interrupting his thoughts, “I’m guessing it’s time for us to wrap things up?”

 

Jesse’s smile got wider as he swiped his finger across the screen, reading: 

 

_[Sugar Pie: Where are you?!]_

 

“Mmm… sounds like it,” he said to his friend with a chuckle as he typed up a reply.  

 

_[Out with a friend/client.  Discussing tat designs.]_

_[Also.]_

_[This is a great example of why you shouldn’t just show up… cute as it is. <3] _

_[I can’t cancel my plans when I don’t know you’re coming.]_

 

_[Sugar Pie:  We will discuss it.  You’ll be here soon?]_

 

_[On my way, darlin’.  ;)]_

 

“An’ that’s my cue,” Jesse said as he slid his phone back into his pocket.  Then he tapped at the page his sketchbook was open to.  “So… we’re thinkin’ this one, right?  Sure ya just want it in black…?”

 

Jean shrugged apologetically.  “Until I’ve got that medical degree, line art is all I can afford… even with the ‘friendship’ discount you are offering.”

 

“I’d go lower if I could, but Reyes would skin me alive…”

 

A dismissive hand was waved in his face as Jean laughed.  “I like this one.  And besides, should I ever have the money for more, I have no doubt you could add onto it with no trouble at all.”

 

Looking down, Jesse studied the design.  “Reckon I could, yeah… make a few small adjustments…”  His phone went off again and the ex-con chuckled.

 

“Your man is impatient,” Jean teased.

 

“Likes gettin’ his way,” Jesse corrected.  “An’ I let ‘im now n’ then.  But it’s also kinda cute when he doesn’t, so…”  He laughed, giving a casual shrug as he stood and started shoving his supplies back into his bag.  “I’m gonna work on this a little more.  Call the shop for an official appointment an’ we can look over the changes before gettin’ ya inked up.”

 

“You’ll be seeing me soon,” the bartender replied as Jesse put money down on the table for his coffee and pie before heading towards the door.  “And Jesse…”

 

The ex-con turned back as Jean called out.  “Yeah?”

 

“Despite the obstacles, it sounds like you have a good thing going.  My advice may not mean much, but… none of us know what the next day may bring.  It’s important to take happiness wherever you can find it.  Maybe it will work out… maybe it won’t.  But at least this way you can enjoy the experience.  Everyone deserves some happiness in their life now and then, no?”

 

Happiness.  It’d actually been awhile since he could truthfully call himself happy.  The word definitely applied now.  Nervous, too, maybe… because the consequences of being caught weren’t good.  But happy above all else.

 

Jesse left the diner with a bounce to his step and was still smiling over Jean’s words as he let himself into his apartment.  The door was barely closed when strong hands appeared out of the dark to push him back against it.  He had time for a soft gasp before impatient lips were on his, kissing fiercely.  For a moment he gave himself over to the heat of Hanzo pressed against him, returning the embrace with equal passion, but when Jesse felt hands slide under his shirt he gently took hold of the other man’s arms, pulling back just enough to speak.  “Woah there, darlin’!  Give a man time ta settle,” he teased, grinning down at an expression that was part confusion and part frustration.  

 

“You are late,” came the almost petulant reply.

 

“Can’t be late fer somethin’ I didn’ know was goin’ on,” he replied with a chuckle.  Hanzo seemed about to argue so Jesse kept talking. “Fer example, if I’d known you were gonna show up t’night, I woulda scheduled my meetin’ another day."  Then, a thought.  Or a worry.  “Can you not stay over?”

 

Hanzo shook his head.  “My time is not an issue.  I made certain.”

 

Damn, he loved hearing that - that the other man was willing to rework what had to be a busy schedule in order to fit him in.  “Well… next time,” he replied leaning in so that their noses brushed, “If ya let me in on tha plan, I’ll make certain, too.  Makin’ this work is gonna take both a’ us, alright?”

 

That once indecipherable look was on Hanzo face and Jesse loved finally knowing what it meant.  “Agreed,” was all Hanzo said before kissing him again, softer this time.  Jesse leaned down into it with a soft sound of approval, rolling his hips lazily against the man.  This _could_ work - he was sure of it.  They just had to both get on the same page first.  Baby steps.  

 

With a smirk, Jesse shifted away from the door, turning the deadbolt before moving them towards the bathroom.  “Don’t know ‘bout you, sugar, but I think I could use a shower… Whaddya say?  Gimme a chance to eyeball my art, make sure it’s all still lookin’ good?”

 

The ex-con’s less-than-subtle invitation earned him an eyeroll… and one of those rare smiles.  “I suppose I’m not opposed to the suggestion…”

 

“Good.  ‘Cause I remember likin’ what you look like when you’re good n’ wet.”

 

Another eyeroll.  But Hanzo replied as they got to the bathroom door, “If I recall, I wasn’t the only one who looked good on the rooftop that night…”

 

Jesse kissed _him_ this time, heart fluttering in his chest like a teenager as he pulled them both into the bathroom and closed the door.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright y'all - just as a heads up. This is the last chapter I've got fully completed. Which means future updates probably won't be as regular as the past updates have been. I am 100% still working on the fic, it's just been harder to balance time for it with two jobs. The story outline is done. That means I know what I want to be going on from start to finish. I've got the plot completely planned. It's just a matter of getting the time to put it all into a story format. LOL! So, please don't give up on me or this fic. Just be aware, updates will begin to fluctuate. Thank you so much for your support and understanding. <3

* * *

**_~ Two Weeks Later ~_ **

* * *

 

Jesse groaned, pulling himself out of sleep as the refrain of ‘[Pale Rider](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdtx1nF-Ki0)’ crescendoed, phone vibrating loud enough on the wooden side table that it almost drowned out the song that told him Reyes was calling.  His hand slapped down onto it, swiping across the screen before putting the device to his ear.  “...’Lo?” he mumbled.  “Somethin’ wrong, boss?”  Behind him he felt Hanzo shift, probably awake.  Jesse’d never seen such a light sleeper.

 

“Sorry, flaco,” came Gabe’s apologetic voice over the phone.  “I know you wanted today off, but I’ve got Lena here at the shop.  Looks like we had a bad batch of ink, some of it’s already fading out.  She doesn’t want anyone else touching it up-”

 

“Say no more, boss,” Jesse interrupted.  “I don’t mind poppin’ in ta help out Lena.  Jus’ tell ‘er ta hold tight.  I gotta wake myself up n’ get ready.”

 

“You got it,” Reyes replied.  “Sorry again…”

 

Jesse made a soft sound in the back of his throat as he felt Hanzo’s arm drape across his waist, hand stroking slowly at his stomach.  Quickly he coughed to mask it.  “S’ fine.  Be there soon."  Then he hung up before anything more could be said, worried that hand mind drift lower while he was still on the phone. 

 

“I thought we had the whole day to ourselves...”  The tone wasn’t complaining, only curious - an opening for Jesse to explain if he wanted to.

 

“We did… sorry, darlin’.  Shouldn’t take long."  He rolled over to face the other man, giving him a gentle kiss.  “Need ta touch up a friend’s design.  Bad batch a’ ink.  Shouldn’t take more than an hour… two tops.  Then I’m all yours.”

 

It wasn’t like they had any real plans for the day, besides movies and food and sex.  How could they with things being what they were?  But he knew Hanzo’d had to pull some serious strings to make vanishing for over 48 hours okay on his end, and Jesse didn’t want to waste the other man’s efforts.  There were other reasons he’d asked for a day completely to themselves, but the ex-con hadn’t figured out the best way to say something… and probably wouldn’t.  It wasn’t like Hanzo needed to know, anyway. It didn’t change anything.

 

“A friend… not just a client?”

 

Jesse grinned, pleased Hanzo had caught that difference.  He nodded.  “If things were different, Lena’s one a’ tha ones I’d introduce ya to.  She’s a real spitfire.  Like Genji… on speed.”

 

Hanzo snorted in laughter and nuzzled against Jesse’s neck, nibbling at a mark he’d made last night.  “In that case, I will not attempt to woo you into a different decision.  Go see to your friend.  But go now before my body overrules my logic and I change my mind.

 

The ex-con held still for a few seconds longer, drinking in the feel of Hanzo’s mouth on his bruised skin, before finally pulling away.  “Damn, I wish I knew how ta hurry up my art,” he murmured, shifting backwards to slide out of the bed.  Moving towards the bathroom for a fast shower, he called back over his shoulder, “Lena’s gonna owe me fer this one.”

 

Less than 30 minutes later Jesse was at the shop.  He stopped outside the door to send a final text to Hanzo, and then turned the handle, stepping inside.  As soon as the bell tinkled above him, multiple voices shouted simultaneously, “SURPRISE!”  The ex-con stumbled backwards into the doorframe, trying to register what was happening as the smiling faces of friends surged forward, surrounding him.  “Tha hell…?!”

 

“Happy birthday!” he heard Lena’s voice call out.

 

“Finally the birthday boy appears!”  That was Aleksandra, he was pretty sure.

 

Jesse’s gaze sought out Gabe… who was grinning like the rest of them and didn’t look at all sorry.  “Don’t just stand there, flaco.  Get in here and close the door before you let out all the air-conditioning.”

 

Doing as he’d been told, Jesse called out loud enough for just about everyone to hear, “The hell is all this?!”  Because now he was noticing the festive western-themed decorations - little blinking lights shaped like cacti, and balloons in brown, red, orange and gold.  Streamers, too… and he was pretty sure that was an Ennio Morricone soundtrack playing in the background.

 

“Don’t be daft, boy!” Torbjorn called out.  “Is it your birthday or isn’t it?!”

 

“Well, yeah, but…”  

 

“But nothing!  We’re celebrating!  Someone crack open the keg!”

 

A cheer arose at Torb’s words as Jesse moved further into the crowded room, a little surprised by everyone Gabe had managed to wrangle into coming.  He moved over to his friend, who was still grinning and standing next to an equally happy-looking Jack.  

 

“I have a birthday every year,” Jesse chuckled.  “What’s this all about?”

 

It was Jack who spoke.  “Don’t you think your fifth birthday on the outside is worth celebrating?”

 

Fifth?  Jesse thought for a second.  “It really been that long already?  I’ll be damned.  What’d you two hafta do ta get everyone here?  Or was tha free booze enough?”

 

That earned him a soft snort.  “Don’t be dense. They’re here for you.  Well…” he side-eyed Jack for a second and then handed Jesse a square envelope.  

 

“All except one,” Jack finished the sentence.  “Lucio couldn’t make it and sent this along instead.”

 

Jesse stared at the two of them in shock.  “But… I thought…”

 

Jack looked a little sheepish.  “Since I’m legally not allowed to get you a real present, please consider this one mine.  I did some research, submitted my report, and got the okay on him.  The guy’s a musician - nothing more.  And the board agreed with me.”

 

Beaming, Jesse tore into the envelope, which revealed a card and a burned CD labeled in Lucio’s rounded handwriting,  _ ‘Happy Birthday, Jesse!  Remixed a few of your favs.  Enjoy!  -  Lucio  _ 🐸 _ ’ _   He looked up at the parole officer.  “So… we’re good then?  I can talk ta him whenever?”  Not like he hadn’t already been doing that, but the fact that the guy had gone out of his way to legalize things spoke volumes to Jesse.  

 

“Free and clear,” he agreed.  “And I’m sorry it was ever an issue to begin with.”

 

“Ya really are too good fer this work,” Jesse teased, offering the other man his hand.  Jack took it and they shook for a moment… until Lena appeared at Jesse’s elbow.

 

“You lot are hogging the birthday boy!  C’mon, Jesse, time to make the guest-of-honor rounds!”

 

Jesse handed the CD over to Gabe for safe-keeping and then allowed Lena to pull him through the crowd.  He greeted former clients displaying his work proudly, some of Jack’s other parolees, and Jean was here, too!  He’d even brought a date… or it seemed that way. A pretty, petite woman with two-toned hair stood at his side, her cat-like eyes watching the people around her with amused curiosity.  Torb had brought the whole family along, not that Jesse minded. They were all more than welcome… even the eldest, Brigitte… who happened to work at the local precinct.  Fortunately, her mentor (and one of the members of Jesse’s parole board) was nowhere to be seen.  Not that he had a grudge or anything… it just would’ve felt awkward given the circumstances.

 

He said hello here and there, and offered a lot of ‘thank yous’ to people for coming.  And yet, despite his pleased surprise at the unexpected party, Jesse’s mind stayed focused on the one person who wasn’t here.  Hanzo.  Waiting back at the apartment for him… with no clue what was going on.  Hell, no clue it was even his birthday.  He wanted to call the other man and explain what was up, but every time he tried to break away for some alone time, he kept getting interrupted.

 

It was Jean who finally came to the rescue.

 

“You’re looking antsy, my friend.”  The bartender strode over, his friend hovering at one elbow.  “Was this party too much of a surprise?”

 

Jesse chuckled, shaking his head.  “Naw… I just need ta make a phone call, an gettin’ someplace private is provin’ a mite difficult…”

 

“Ah, I see.  Something to do with…?”

 

Grinning sheepishly, the ex-con nodded.

 

“Say no more.”  Jean turned to the woman who was looking between them with a curiosity that made Jesse just a little bit nervous.  “Olivia, would you mind occupying the shop’s bathroom so Jesse has an excuse to take me upstairs? And once we’re back I’ll introduce the two of you properly.”

 

“I suppose I could do that for you, miho… “ came her playful reply.  “But I expect answers later.”

 

Jean laughed.  “As if you couldn’t find them out for yourself whenever you wanted.”

 

She grinned, eyes seeming to dance with amusement at being called out.  “True.  But why do all the work when I can just get you to tell me?”

 

The exchange worried Jesse a little… but Jean seemed unconcerned.  He obviously trusted this woman a lot to even involve her, so he let it go, watching silently as Olivia headed for the unisex bathroom, waving her fingers at them once before disappearing inside.

 

After that, excusing himself to lead Jean up to the bathroom in Reyes’ apartment was easily done.  Once there, Jean actually did go in and close the door - for appearances, he claimed, in case anyone else came up… but Jesse knew it was also to give him some privacy.

 

Taking a deep breath he pulled out his phone and dialed Hanzo’s number.  It was answered on the 2nd ring.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Jesse blinked, a little surprised.  “Not a thing, darlin’.  Promise.  Just ran into a bit of a snag…”  He took a deep breath.  “I may not a’ been entirely honest ‘bout why I wanted ya to myself for tha day… an’ now it’s come back ta bite me.”  He chuckled a little, wishing he could see Hanzo’s expression as he talked.

 

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

 

“Sugar?  You still there?”

 

Hanzo’s voice sounded tense when he finally replied.  “Is this a secret I should be concerned about?”

 

“Wha?  No!  No, nothin’ like that.  It jus’ didn’ seem like a big deal…”  He sighed and then decided to get it over with quickly, not sure why he suddenly felt so guilty about keeping it from the other man.  “T’day’s my birthday.  All I wanted was for us ta spend a whole day t’gether.  The call from Gabe was a ruse.  They’re throwin’ me a damn surprise party.”

 

More silence.  Finally Hanzo spoke.  “And you kept this from me because…?”

 

“Because it’s not a big deal,” Jesse replied with a soft laugh.  “An’ I didn’ want ya feelin’ like ya had ta say yes when I asked…”

 

“I… see.  And now you’re uncertain when you’ll return.”  A statement, not a question. Jesse suddenly felt lousy.

 

“I’m comin’ back jus’ as soon as I can politely get away.  Give ya my word.  I… I still want this day ta be about us.”  But now he was worried that he’d come home to an empty apartment.  “I’m sorry I didn’ say what was up…”

 

“You do not need to apologize.”  Hanzo’s voice sounded softer now… as if he could hear some of the underlying panic in Jesse’s tone.  “I will be here when you return.”

 

The ex-con heaved a sigh of relief and had to bite back the urge to say ‘thank you.’  “I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout ya ev’ry second I’m here,” he murmured, his own voice dipping soft and low.

 

“And I you… the entire time I’m taking the shower I’d hoped we’d share together…”  

 

Jesse stifled a groan.  “Damn tease is what you are, Hanzo Shimada.”

 

That earned him one of those rare laughs, and he wished he could see the other man’s face while he did it.

 

“Hurry back and I will not have to tease you further.”

 

“Ya sure know how ta give a guy incentive.  Don’t go doin’ too much without me…?”

 

There was a weighty pause - one Jesse knew Hanzo was using purely for effect.  “Hm… we shall see.”  And then the soft click of the line going silent.  He pulled the phone from his ear and grinned down at the screen.  Damn… he really had it bad, didn’t he? Not that Jesse wanted things any other way.

 

The call left Jesse feeling antsy for other reasons now, but the worry was gone, at least.  Knocking on the bathroom door, he called out to Jean, “All good.  An’ thanks.”

 

Bathroom door opening, Jean grinned at him.  “So, he’s willing to let us keep you awhile longer?”

 

“Willing ain’t exactly the word I’d use, but...”  Jesse shrugged.  “He’s not pissed, so I’ll take it.”  Then, using the opportunity to ease some of his own curiosity, Jesse continued, “Speakin' a significant others… don’t think I ever heard ya mention an ‘Olivia’ before…”  His brows raised with earnest urging as Jean laughed.

 

“Actually, my friend… you have.  But not by that name.”

 

The ex-con’s expression turned thoughtful as he tried to recall the people Jean had mentioned in their chats.  “Think yer gonna have ta give me a hint…”

 

“She’s… my present to you.  Or I should say, her services are.  Should you ever have need of them. I wanted the two of you to meet…”

 

Jesse’s brows creased together in serious confusion.  “...Services?  Jean, I don’t think…”

 

The meager protests earned him a rolling laugh and a clap on the back.  “Not like that, my friend.  Let me refresh your memory.  Olivia’s other name is  _ Sombra _ .”

 

And that was enough.  Jesse had heard Jean talk about his hacker friend from ‘the old days’ more times than he could count.  And if his stories were to be believed, she was good.  One of the best.

 

“I just thought,” Jean continued, “her skills might come in handy for you… or someone you know, perhaps?  Now, or ten years from now.  I’ve already talked to her about it, and she’s agreed.”

 

“At what price?” Jesse asked eyes narrowed in slight worry.

 

Jean chuckled and squeezed his shoulder.  “I’m just cashing in a favor.  One of many.  Have no worries, my friend.  I just thought… given your situation, you might need Sombra’s services sooner than I.”

 

It wasn’t a bad assumption to make.  While Jesse had every intention of doing his parole the right way, maybe she could be of use to Hanzo… if he ever decided… or wanted… an escape.  A small part of him still feared it was just a pipe dream.  Someone like Hanzo giving up his life for  _ him... _ ?  But they’d talked about what they both wanted from this… or hoped for.  And he truly believed Hanzo wasn’t the kind of man to lead him on just to sate some physical craving.  So, yeah… maybe one day…

 

“I’m gettin’ all kinds a’ nice gifts today,” he finally said, dipping his voice lower than necessary to avoid the surge of emotion threatening to well up.  “Thank you, Jean.  I mean it.”

 

“Think nothing of it, my friend.  Just my way of sending you towards your happiness.”

 

Jesse couldn’t resist.  He wrapped the other man in a tight bear hug, holding him close for a minute.  “Not sure I deserve a friend like you… but I’m damn glad ya haven’t figured that out yet.”

 

Jean returned the hug with a warm laugh.  “It sounds to me that you are the one who still has some things to figure out.”

 

* * *

**_~ Two Hours Later ~_ **

* * *

 

The first thing that greeted Jesse when he finally opened his apartment door was the smell of fresh flowers. They were on the coffee table… and in a vase!  Not an elaborate arrangement, but pleasantly fragrant.  He didn’t recognize all of the blooms - okay, any of them.  His floral knowledge rested solely in his Gran’s simple garden.  But if Jesse knew Hanzo, the man had selected each flower for a reason.  Not seeing the other as he closed the door, the ex-con strode over to the arrangement with a smile, running his fingers lightly over one of the taller blooms.  He’d have to come up with a story if anyone saw them… but it wouldn’t be difficult.  As he admired the bouquet, inhaling the heady scent, Jesse heard the soft ‘tmp’ of a footfall before arms wrapped around his waist and a nose nuzzled into his neck.

 

“Happy birthday,” came a muffled voice as Jesse’s arms settled over Hanzo’s.

 

The ex-con chuckled.  “Sorry things didn’t go how I planned, darlin’... an’ glad ya ain’t mad at me…”

 

“Mmm - I wish you had told me.  However, I understand why you did not.”  Placing a soft kiss to Jesse’s neck, he shifted, moving around to the front, but keeping his arms around the cowboy’s waist, pressing close.  “I am honored you wanted me here today.”

 

“Sweet talker,” Jesse murmured, leaning in to press his forehead to Hanzo’s.  “‘Course I wanted ya here; time with you is the best way ta spend any day-”

 

Hanzo cut of anything else Jesse might’ve been planning to say with a slow, soft kiss that didn’t last nearly long enough.  When he pulled away, it was to murmur, “Fortunately, I am very good at last-minute planning.”  

 

Eyes squinting a little in curious confusion, Jesse asked with a grin, “ An’ just what’s that s’posed ta mean?”

 

His lover chuckled and pulled away.  “You will have to wait until sunset. Until then…”  Stepping back, Hanzo withdrew a small package from his pocket, holding it out.

 

Jesse gaped.  “Flowers  **_an’_ ** a present?  Ya didn’t hafta…”  

 

“I did,” came the other man’s soft reply.  

 

With a hand that almost trembled, Jesse accepted the perfectly wrapped gift.  It was small… no bigger than the palm of his hand, and he unwrapped the paper carefully, planning to preserve it in one of his sketchbooks.  Inside was a black, hinged box, and he opened it with care to reveal a chained, silver pendant shaped like an arrow.  Looking up to ask, the question died on his tongue as Hanzo pulled another chain from beneath his own shirt; on it hung a bow - the arrow’s obvious companion.  Jesse felt himself flush with the kind of happiness he hadn’t known he was capable of.  Hanzo had picked the perfect symbol - one Jesse knew had meaning for him.  It was something they could share… and easily lie about should anyone ask where the new piece of jewelry had come from.

 

“I… don’t know what ta say,” he replied, forcing his voice to stay soft for fear it might break.

 

Hanzo’s eyes glinted with a teasing expression.  “Jesse McCree, speechless?  I never thought I would-”

 

Jesse didn’t let him finish.  His strong arms wrapped around the other man, pulling their bodies together as he captured Hanzo’s lips in a hard, passionate kiss - one which continued until they were forced to stop for want of air.  

 

“I will take that to mean I chose well,” Hanzo spoke, a breathless chuckle in his tone.

 

“Mmm… from where I’m standin’, I’m tha one who chose well.”  He was rewarded with a soft flush which crept up the other’s neck and dusted his cheeks with a rosy hue.

 

“So… tell me, Jesse - what did you have planned for us today before your phone call?”

 

As if he didn’t already know the answer!  Grinning, the ex-con walked them both back towards the couch.  “Jus’ you n’ me enjoyin’ our time t’gether,” he replied.  

 

“Enjoying?”  There was teasing in Hanzo’s tone. 

 

“You really gonna make me say it?” Jesse asked with a laugh.

 

Hanzo leaned forward, pressing his lips against the shell of one ear.  “I like hearing you say it,” he murmured, voice low and tinged with want.

 

Jesse didn’t need anymore encouragement than that.  “In that case… my plan was was fer us ta spend all day fuckin’ each other senseless.”  He felt the other man shiver in his hold. “But first…” He stepped back a little and waved the box he still held.  “I’m gonna put this on.”

 

“Wait,” Hanzo said, his own hand falling onto the box.  “Allow me?”

 

With a soft smile, Jesse handed over the box, watching as the necklace was removed.  Hanzo stepped close again, undoing the clasp and wrapping his arms around Jesse’s neck.  With nimble ease he secured the chain and it rested gently against the ex-con’s skin.  It felt like it belonged there, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.  Instead, he murmured, “Thank you… fer this…” He fingered the pendant gently. “An’ tha flowers.”

 

“Mmm… you are worth so much more.  Unfortunately, time and the need for discretion were both against me.”

 

The ex-con chuckled, hands reaching out to snake around Hanzo’s waist, pushing up underneath the borrowed t-shirt, fingers teasing over warm skin.  “I got everythin’ I want right here, darlin’.”  He was rewarded with one of Hanzo’s most brilliant smiles, and strong hands stroking over his chest before hooking in the waistband of his jeans.

 

“As do I.”

 

Clothes were quickly shucked and left forgotten on the floor.  Jesse didn’t begrudge his friends for their party - he’d had fun.  But their timing was terrible.  More determined than ever to make the most of the rest of his day (and night) he made no protest when Hanzo pushed him gently down onto the couch before climbing atop him, muscled legs straddling his lap.  Jesse's hands settled on the other man’s hips as he gazed up into dark eyes gone almost black with lust.  Fuck… every time he stared into those eyes he knew he was a goner.  If this ended badly, recovery was going to be a living nightmare.  But he’d accepted that, hadn’t he?  Almost from the beginning?  He’d decided to take the good with the bad on this one.  Hanzo was worth it.  All he could hope was that the other man felt the same.

 

The metal from the pendant felt cool against his heated skin - a sharp contrast to the warmth of Hanzo’s hand as it wrapped around his cock.  Mmmm…  “Don’t s’pose I could convince ya ta speed things up this time around, darlin’?” he murmured.

 

Above him Hanzo tilted his head to one side, as if thinking over his request.   “I could.  However, I enjoy the sounds you make when we take things slow.”

 

Jesse opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly silenced by a soft, deep kiss.  Damn him!  It hadn’t taken Hanzo long to realize how effective those kisses could be at shutting him up… or distracting him.  Not that he was REALLY complaining.  Much.  He settled for a muffled sound of protest, but didn’t make any real effort to stop the kiss.  One of these days he was going to get the man hot and bothered enough for a nice, hard fuck - show Hanzo what he’d been missing - but he couldn't deny he liked things this way, too.

 

While he’d been thinking - and enjoying the feel of Hanzo’s tongue - the man had somehow managed to get a hold of one of the small bottles of lube Jesse now kept scattered around the apartment, slipping it into Jesse’s hand.  After an unforgettable encounter that involved testing the strength of his dinette table, he’d decided it was worth it to have a few on hand in various places.  Small apartment or not, having to step too far away to grab the necessities could sometimes ruin the mood.  The same went for condoms - a few here, a few there.  By now Hanzo had all of his ‘hiding spots’ mostly memorized.  Speaking of condoms… he heard the soft crinkle of packaging… and his eyes went wide in pleasant surprise as he felt a strong hand rolling the latex down over his cock.  In all honesty, Jesse wasn’t too picky about who took who.  As long as everyone felt good, what difference did it make?  Hanzo usually preferred to top, so he let him.  But today it seemed like the man had other ideas…  

 

Chuckling, he broke off their kiss to murmur, “Damn, if it weren’t my birthday, it would sure as hell feel like it.”  That earned him a smirk… and fingers squeezing lightly around the base of his cock.  Jesse gasped softly, hips bucking and raising them both off the couch.  Hanzo’s smirk got wider.  Was that an anticipatory gleam in his eyes...?   

 

“If you don’t do something with that lube I gave you, I might change my mind.”  The words were spoken in a soft huff that was obviously supposed to sound exasperated - but only came off as needy to Jesse’s ears.

 

“Easy, darlin’.  Despite our current positions, I wasn’t about ta go assumin’ things…  ‘Sides, thought you liked things slow.”  

 

Hanzo leaned forward, pressing his lips to the edge of Jesse’s ear.  “You are impossible, Jesse McCree.”

 

Those words had been said before, and the ex-con couldn’t resist replying the same way he had back then.  “That’s why ya love me.”

 

Above him, Hanzo hummed in agreement, reaching out with one had to stroke Jesse’s cheek as he leaned back.  “It is one reason, yes. One of many.”  

 

Any blood that hadn’t already been in Jesse’s cock, flooded there, making his head swim a little.  They hadn’t quite gotten to the outright ‘I love you’ stage yet, but those words were close enough in his book.  Remembering something from a movie, he murmured, “How do I love thee… let me count tha ways…”

 

That earned him a quirked, curious eyebrow.  “Browning…?”

 

Jesse chuckled.  “Not a clue, darlin’.  Stole it from Roger Rabbit.”

 

Hanzo snorted with a smile and leaned in to kiss him again.

 

Despite Hanzo’s earlier protests, they spent the next few minutes just kissing… with some occasional nibbling and sucking.  Eventually, Jesse got around to lubing up his fingers, and with a little adjusting, managed slip one inside, thrusting slowly in and out as Hanzo buried his face in Jesse’s neck, leaving a line of what would be some impressive hickies come morning.  When another finger was added, Hanzo got a bit more proactive, drizzling lube over Jesse’s protected cock and then stroking vigorously. He moaned, fingers moving to match Hanzo’s faster pace.

 

“Enough…”  The word was a soft growl against Jesse’s ear and he rolled his hips in knowing anticipation.  

 

“Ready when you are, darlin’...”  As he spoke, his fingers left Hanzo, both hands move to grip the man’s hips once again.  He loved the feel of those tense and trembling muscles… and kept a firm grip as Hanzo rose up, pressing close.  Jesse made a soft, encouraging sound as one hand moved to take hold of his cock, positioning it lightly against Hanzo’s slick entrance.  And then seemed to freeze there, breaths coming hard and sharp.

 

“Han…!”

 

“Patience.”

 

“I ain’t a patient man…”  Though he tried so hard to be because he knew it was what Hanzo preferred.

 

So many sensations!  Strong fingers carding through his hair, the smell of Hanzo’s skin, the brush of puckered skin along the tip of his cock.  Jesse moaned softly, eyes falling onto the other’s length. So close! “Darlin’, if ya don’t do somethin’ soon…” He didn’t let his warning get any further.  Instead, the ex-con leaned forward and swiped his tongue along the underside of Hanzo’s cock.

 

Above him, the man gave a sharp gasp, body arching forward, heated flesh pressing against Jesse’s lips as if in invitation.  Dark eyes flashed down to his own, but Jesse couldn’t tell if it was irritation or challenge he saw in that gaze.  

 

“I know, I know,” Jesse chuckled, meeting that heated look.  “I’m impossible.”  He placed a light kiss to the tip of that beautiful cock.

 

Hanzo’s serious expression broke into a grin; then, without looking away, he pushed himself down fully onto Jesse’s length.  The ex-con’s eyes went wide as a shout of surprised pleasure tore from his lips, hands clenching the other man’s hips hard enough to bruise.  “F-fuck…!”

 

As he reeled (and tried to keep from coming right there) Hanzo began to move, hands on Jesse’s shoulders for leverage, riding him good and proper.  The ex-con let out a loud moan of approval but it was quickly muffled by Hanzo’s mouth on his - probing… claiming.  His vision swirled and Jesse had to remind himself to respond, despite just having had his mind blown.  He returned the kiss with bruising force and began using his legs to meet each plunge with a powerful thrust.  Before long Hanzo was moaning, too, their foreheads pressed together, heated breaths mingling as they both sought release.

 

Taking the chance that Hanzo could stay balanced with just one hand on his waist, Jesse wrapped his other (still slightly slick with lube) around Hanzo’s cock and began to stroke in time to their rhythm.  Above him, the smaller man shuddered, rhythm faltering for a second… and Jesse grinned.  “Jus’ let go, darlin’,” he crooned, voice low and rough with his own want.  “Wanna feel ya go tight aroun’ me… feel everythin’ as ya give in…”  Hanzo actually sped up - fast enough that Jesse’s hips couldn’t quite match anymore.  But his hand still could.  He pumped faster, the pad of his thumb raking over Hanzo’s tip again and again.  His lover gave a soft, muffled cry, and Jesse’s balls tightened at the sound.  “Right behind ya…” was his breathless response as he felt Hanzo begin to lose control.  Muscles constricted around his cock, hands clenched and clawed at his shoulders… and then Hanzo was coming.

 

“Simply impossible…” he heard the man murmur breathlessly.  And that was all Jesse needed.  His own tension released itself like a crashing wave, and they rode each other’s orgasms into trembling, shivery conclusions.

 

Jesse was only mildly aware of Hanzo sliding off of him and moving to settle by his side a moment later.

 

“Think we earned ourselves a nap, darlin'...”

 

He felt more than heard Hanzo’s low, chuckled reply.  “Indeed.”

 

* * *

**_~ A Few Hours Later ~_ **

* * *

 

When Jesse awoke it was to the smell of cooking food and the sun setting off in the distance.  With a soft groan, he stretched slightly sore muscles and scrubbed blearily at his eyes.  When he opened them, Hanzo was standing over him with that expression Jesse loved so much.  

 

“Go take a shower while I finish in your kitchen.”  The man leaned down a pressed a soft kiss to lips parted in curious surprise.  “I have one more gift for you.  But not until you are presentable.”

 

“One cleanin’ comin’ right up,” Jesse drawled in a muzzy voice before offering his lover a sated smile.

 

Rising, he made a detour to the closet to grab some clothes, and then headed off for a quick, but thorough, shower.  As he stepped out of the bathroom, the scent of food struck him again, making his stomach rumble.  Whatever it was smelled amazing.  But… glancing around the kitchen Jesse didn’t see any actual food.  Or… He looked towards the living area and the bed.  Where was Hanzo…?!  He was just about to let himself start mildly worrying when behind him he heard:

 

“Jesse?  Are you ready?”

 

He whirled to find Hanzo peering at him from outside the kitchen window.  The fire escape?  What was Hanzo doing out there?  Shifting, he felt the gentle weight of the pendant against his chest - as if reminding him that everything was okay - and gave the other man a broad smile.  “You know me, darlin’.  Ready for anythin’.

 

Hanzo chuckled and held out his hand.  “Then join me.”

 

Without question, Jesse took the offered hand, savoring the feeling of connection it gave him.  He moved through the window (closing it behind him) and followed Hanzo up onto the roof - which almost didn’t look like his anymore!  Not that he was complaining!  It was amazing!  His fire pit was lit, flames blazing high, and the little covered sitting area had been draped with semi-opaque curtains on all sides.  Within, his lounge chairs had been replaced with an abundance of blankets and pillows, and the smell of food drifted lightly to his nose from beneath several covered platters

 

Jesse was… speechless.  He tried a couple of times, to say something - anything - but the words were stuck in his throat.

 

“You… do not like it?”  

 

The worried question snapped him out of his stupor.

 

“Jus’ tha opposite.  I like it so much, I don’ have words,” he replied, still trying to take it all in.

 

That earned him a soft chuckle.  “I’ve made you speechless twice in one day?  It’s a miracle.”

 

The ex-con snickered, pulling Hanzo gently to his side.  “Won’t last long.  Enjoy it while ya can, darlin’.”

 

“Mm… I intend to.”

 

And then Hanzo was kissing him… moving them both carefully toward the draped canopy.  

 

The rest of their evening was filled soft music and good food, accompanied perfectly by the night sky and city lights.  Jesse told Hanzo about the party, shared stories about his co-workers and friends, and basically did everything he could to make the man feel like a part of his life.  Because he was.  God help them both.

 

Hanzo didn’t talk of his present.  That was still taboo for too many reasons, something Jesse was working hard to understood.  Instead the other man shared stories of Genji before Jesse knew him - the mischievous kid, the headstrong teenager.  There was even a story or two of his father - Sojiro Shimada - head of the syndicate.  The ex-con knew it was as close as Hanzo could get to sharing his life, and was grateful for what the other man was offering.  

 

They’d been exchanging gentle touches most of the night, and at one point (as their conversation wound down)  Jesse could've sworn he heard the other man’s voice hitch.  He brought Hanzo’s hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles softly while his thumb rubbed in small, soothing circles.  Hanzo fell silent, shifting on the blankets until he was pressed against Jesse’s side.  Jesse adjusted, too, arms moving to wrap around the other man, holding him close.  With full stomachs and sated bodies, they drifted almost lazily on the edges of sleep.  Worried he might not remember to say it later, he murmured, “Best birthday ever…”  He could tell Hanzo heard by the way the man shifted closer… held him tighter… pressed a soft kiss to the pulse at his neck - before sleep took them both.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than normal, but I know it's been awhile and I wanted to get this out to y'all. Everyone has been so very patient with me and I deeply appreciate it. Also! I'm SUPER excited to finally feature an artwork I commissioned (with the help of a friend) SO MANY MONTHS AGO! It's an incredible piece by YourAverageJoke, (see the link in the fic) and you should definitely check out their Twitter (https://twitter.com/YourAverageJoke) and their Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/your.average.joke/) and their Patreon (https://www.patreon.com/averagejoke)!

* * *

**_~ One Month Later ~_ **

* * *

 

“An’ then!  You won’t believe what happened next!”  Jesse paused for dramatic effect - which might’ve been a little silly since he was talking to a tombstone.  “He kissed me, Genj!  Right there on the roof in tha rain!  It was… incredible.  **HE’S** incredible!” Grinning from ear-to-ear, the ex-con sat cross-legged in front of his friend’s grave, telling everything about the last few months or so of his life.  “I… I dunno if you’d be happy about me n’ Hanzo or not,” he continued.  “Seein’ how things were n’ all, but I swear this feels right.  All I gotta do now is find some way ta get my parole wrapped up.  An’ I brought that up ta Jack recently, so…”  

 

Jesse broke off as the alarm went off on his phone.  “Damn.  Outta time.  Jean needed a little help at tha bar t’night.”  Standing, he dusted off his jeans and gave the stone another smile, sadder this time.  “Wish you were really here.  Sometimes I think I could use a little extra insight inta what yer brother’s all about.  Y’know… what the two a’ ya have been through...”  He sighed and shook his head.  “I jus’ don’t always feel like…”  Jesse stopped himself, suddenly fearing that putting a voice to his worries might make them more real.  “Anyway… I’ll catch ya later.”

 

Standing, the ex-con made his way through the graveyard, but slowed his steps as he neared the entrance.  There was a long, dark car blocking the gate in just such a way that he couldn’t get through.  Immediately, Jesse’s mind flashed back to the last time he’d seen a car like that.  Here.  When he’d been leaving with Lucio.  It could just be coincidence.  After all, black cars in a graveyard weren’t the weirdest thing, but he was getting a funny feeling.  Deciding to play it cool, Jesse strode over, squinting as he tried to see past the tinted windows.  It looked like there was a driver, so he rapped one knuckle on the glass and then took a step back.  No need to be intimidating, right?  “‘Scuse me - I hate ta be a bother, but yer blockin’ tha only exit, friend.”

 

There was a soft ‘chk’ sound; one of the back windows began to lower and a voice from inside spoke in softly-accented English, “I would like a word before you leave.  Please, join me.”  Then the door opened as the window rolled back up.

 

Jesse just stood there, staring, mouth slightly agape.  What the HELL was going on?!  There was no way on God’s green earth he was going to-

 

“I am not in the habit of asking twice,” came the voice from within.

 

And just like that, Jesse knew who was in the car.  The voice was older, but the tone - the inflection - was unmistakable.  He’d heard Hanzo use that same tone on him at least a dozen times.  Without making a conscious decision, Jesse realized his legs were moving him forward.  Fuckin’ hell.  This was such a BAD idea!  But what choice did he have?  With the gangly sort of grace that only comes from having long limbs, Jesse settled himself in the car and closed the door before turning to face a man he could only assume was Hanzo’s father.  

 

“Sir…?” he said in acknowledgement, giving a slight nod of his head.  No reason not to be polite.  Not yet, at least.  Whatever would get him out of this alive… and with all of his pieces intact.  Because, oh hell, if this had to do with Hanzo (which, of course it did) he could definitely see this guy wanting to get rid of a few choice bits.

 

The elder Shimada looked him over silently, but Jesse couldn’t tell if he was being sized up or judged.  Probably both.  “You are… a friend of my son’s?”

 

There was hesitation in the question, as if the man was uncertain.  Maybe he could use that?  Try to play dumb a little?  “I’m friends with a lot a’ people; jus’ a friendly kinda guy.”  He grinned and shrugged.  That’s it… play it cool.  

 

A single brow arched at him, obviously unimpressed, and Jesse had to resist the urge to chuckle.  He wondered if Hanzo knew just how much of his father he had in him.  “And do you give _suggestive_ photos to all of your _friends_ , Mr. ...?”  As the man spoke, he pulled [a photograph](https://www.instagram.com/p/BydgPHfFsK5/) from an inner breast pocket and glanced st the back of it  “Mr. McCree?”

 

 

Jesse blinked, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face.  The picture was one of him, splayed out in a polka-dotted kiddie pool with a pink flamingo floatie around his middle.  He remembered that party!  This wasn’t about Hanzo at all!  It was about Genji!  “That was a great night!” he chuckled, relaxing a little as memories flooded him.  No sense in denying anything now, anyway, right?  “Genj helped me plan a rooftop birthday.”  He pointed to the kiddie pool he was sitting in.  “He bought a bunch a’ those things on clearance - pool toys, too - an’ scattered 'em all over tha roof.  Snaked a hose all tha way from my kitchen sink an' up tha fire escape so we could fill everythin’...  We had a blast!”

 

He was being stared at in a way Jesse could only describe as curious… and he realized he had Hanzo to thank for being able to read the older man at all.  Clearing his throat a little, Jesse continued in a more subdued tone, “Yer son was a real good friend a’ mine.  One a’ tha best, really.  When I heard what happened… I didn’ know what ta do with myself fer awhile…”

 

“Then you _were_ close?”

 

Jesse wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he was being setup for something.  Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad something.  So, he told the truth.  “Genj was my best friend, an’ I miss ‘im somthin’ awful.  But if I’m understandin’ what yer askin’, we weren’t close like _that_.  Jus’ friends.”  He grinned a little and nodded to the photo.  “It was damn hot that day… weird fer early June.  Most ‘a the others were wearin’ less, Genji included.  Cross my heart.”  He thought about mentioning Lucio, but decided against it.  The last thing Jesse wanted was to accidentally get the DJ in trouble.

 

It was hard to tell in the car’s shadows, but Jesse could’ve sworn the hint of a smile appeared on the elder Shimada’s face for an instant.  Then, still looking at the photo, he tapped twice on the window that separated them from the driver. The engine started, and Jesse’s back went stiff.  He reached for the door handle.  “Uh… so, that sounds like my cue ta…”  The doors locked, and he had to take a breath to keep himself from panicking.  “Listen.  I ain’t done nothin’ wrong…”

 

“No.  You haven’t.  Which is why I require your assistance.  Please.”  

 

The ex-con closed his mouth, and took a soft, slow breath to calm his nerves.  He imagined it wasn’t every day a man like Hanzo’s dad said please.  “Alright.  Can I ask where we’re goin’?”

 

“You looked like you could use a ride home.”

 

Jesse found he wasn’t really in the mood for subtlety, so instead of questioning the answer, he countered with a straightforward statement.  “Listen, if this has ta do with Genji, I’m happy ta help, but I’m not really in a position where I can pick n’ choose my battles…”

 

That single eyebrow arched again.  “Explain.”

 

“I’m on parole-”

 

“Ah.”  A pause.  “And yet you spent time with my son?”

 

“Didn’ know who he was,” Jesse admitted.

 

“And if you had?”

 

The ex-con chuckled.  “Probably wouldn’t’ve changed anythin’.  He was too much fun.”

 

The elder Shimada allowed himself another of those quick smiles.  “I have heard as much from others.”

 

Trying to get the conversation back on track, Jesse continued, “All I’m sayin’ is this could get dicey fer me… dependin’ on what yer wantin’...”

 

“Mm…  it could indeed.  However, from what little I know of you - the number of times you’ve visited my son’s grave - I suspect this is a risk you will be willing to take.  For Genji.”

 

Jesse considered arguing, but then decided there wasn’t really a point.  The man had obviously made up his mind. And if there was one thing he’d learned about Shimada men - they were stubborn as hell.  “Fair enough.  Don’t s’pose I could get yer assurance this _won’t_ land me back in prison?”

 

“I… will do my best to make certain that does not happen.”

 

Which was probably the best Jesse could hope for.  “Thanks - I think.”  He hesitated, and then asked, “So… there any chance I could have that photo.  If ya don’t plan on keepin’ it, I mean?”

 

The other man seemed to consider it for a moment, and then held the picture out to him.  “My only use for it is complete. I’ve found you.”

 

Taking the image, Jesse flipped it over, and read in Genji’s precise scrawl, ‘McCree’s Birthday Bash!  All hail the Flamingo King!’  He chuckled, shaking his head.  “Really liked that flamingo… Memories are a little fuzzy, but I’m pretty sure Jamison attached a few firecrackers an’ then sent it sailin' into tha air…”

 

The reminiscing earned him an expression he couldn’t quite read.  Confused amusement, maybe?  It wasn’t an expression he thought he’d ever seen on Hanzo.  The older man opened his mouth as if he intended to say something, but cut himself off as the car slowed to a stop.  Jesse could see Jamison and Mako’s shop just past the window.  

 

Instead of speaking, the elder Shimada pulled a slip of paper from an inner pocket.  “Tomorrow, go to this address.  They will be expecting you.  I ask that you trust me as I am trusting you.  Tell no one.”  

 

Against his better judgement, Jesse took the paper.  A lifetime of caution told him not to trust anything the other said.  However… this was the man who’d raised not only one of his best friends… but the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.  Good came from good. He _had_ to believe that, despite what he knew of the Shimada empire.  “Ya got my word,” he replied with a nod.  “No one.”

 

The unlocking of the car doors was the only signal Jesse needed.  Tucking the paper into his pocket, he nodded again before exiting the vehicle.  He’d barely closed the door when they drove off, and the ex-con let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.  Damn… Moving towards the stairs that would take him up to his apartment, Jesse pulled the piece of paper from his pocket and looked it over more closely.  The address wasn’t familiar in any way, although he wasn’t sure why he’d thought it would be.  Just some random place.  

 

He spent the rest of the evening worrying that he’d made the wrong choice by agreeing to help.  A part of him desperately wanted to talk things out with someone. But he’d made a promise; one he intended to keep (at least until he was given a good reason not to.)  So Jesse tried to put it out of his mind… at least enough to manage some sleep.  Hell, depending on how tomorrow went, he might need it.

 

* * *

**_~ The Next Day ~_ **

* * *

 

The address turned out to be in what looked like a generic warehouse district.  Large, nondescript buildings all clustered close together, none of them giving any outward indication of what they might be used for.  Finding the right one wasn’t easy, but he eventually managed it.  The entrance was locked up tight, but there was a call button, which Jesse pushed warily.  A nondescript voice piped over the intercom, “We’ve been expecting you, Mr. McCree.”  A faint clicking sound came from the door, indicating it’d been unlocked.  “Please come in.”

 

Jesse didn’t like this… any of it.  But if he was being set up for something, Hanzo’s dad was going through a hell of a lot of trouble - especially considering how easy it would be for a guy like that to get him sent back to jail.  With a soft sigh, the ex-con braced himself and stepped inside.  As the door closed behind him, Jesse was met by the stares of an unusual looking group of people. There was a young woman sitting at what looked like a reception desk.  In front of her - on either side of the desk were two men that couldn’t have been anything BUT hired muscle… and if those bulges in their jackets were any indication, they were both carrying.  Off to the side of the desk, standing at the entrance to a long hallway, was a tall, bald man wearing a white lab coat.  He gave Jesse a soft smile, bobbing his head in greeting as he stepped to the side.

 

“The door you want is at the far end, last one on your left.”

 

“Uh… okay.  Don’t s’pose I could-?”

 

He was quickly interrupted.  “I believe you will find your answers behind that door.  However, if not, I will be happy to speak with you afterwards, should you wish.”

 

Jesse frowned a little, but didn’t argue.  “Alright then… I’ll just… be on my way.”

 

The heels of his boots made a sharp sound as he strode down the hall - which was just as nondescript as the outside of the building had been.  This was all so - so surreal. Like one of those Twilight Zone reruns he’d watched as a kid. Reaching the door, he considered knocking first, but no one had told him he needed to.  So, sucking in a deep breath, he reached for the handle and let the door swing open.

 

Eyes taking in the scene, Jesse’s breath all whooshed out on a single word, sounding overly loud in the quiet of the space.  “Genji?!”

 

It wasn’t possible!  Couldn’t be possible!  But there he was!  Propped up in a hospital-style bed, hooked in to a handful of wires while machines beeped quietly around him - and grinning at Jesse from ear-to-ear.

 

“You’d better sit down before you fall over, cowboy.  But close the door first.”

 

The words came to him faintly, dulled by a roaring in his head.  Without really thinking, Jesse closed the door and moved toward the bed on legs that visibly wobbled.  “Holy fuckin’ hell…!  But…. how?  I mean…  What?!”

 

He was being laughed at now.  Without thinking, the ex-con leaned down and (trying to be gentle, just in case) wrapped his friend in a long hug.  The chuckles subsided enough for Genji to speak as he returned the embrace.  “It is good to see you, too.”

 

When Jesse finally pulled away, he took a step back and plopped immediately into a nearby chair, scooting it closer to the bed.  “You’ve got a helluva lot of explainin’ ta do!  Do you have any idea-?!”

 

Genji cut him off with a nod.  “I do.  Of course I do.  But my father made this choice… and I am grateful for it.  I couldn’t risk ruining the effort he has gone through.  I have to be cautious.”

 

“I… don’t understand,” Jesse replied with a soft shake of his head.  “Jus’ what exactly did yer dad decide… an’ why?”

 

His friend’s expression sobered a little.  “I suppose you know now… about my family.”  A statement, not a question.  “I hope that didn’t cause you trouble after the accident.”

 

“Naw, don’ worry.  Morrison’s always treated me right.  He understood.”

 

Genji nodded.  “My accident was real.  However, my father saw it as an opportunity to give me something he knew I wanted.”  Here, the man paused, as if waiting to see if Jesse would understand.

 

“Sorry… yer gonna hafta keep fillin’ in blanks,” Jesse replied, though he thought he was beginning to get an inkling.

 

The smile that lit his friend’s face was almost blinding.  “My freedom, Jesse.  He’s letting me leave the family.  I can go anywhere.  Do anything.”

 

“Well, tha first thing you should do is call Lucio,” the ex-con said, trying to keep his tone from sounding like a lecture.  “Unless… he’s not part a’ what yer wantin’ now?”

 

Genji’s smiled dimmed a little.  “If he’ll have me - forgive me for the deception - then yes, I want that.  But I want to do it right. In person, like with you.”  

 

Jesse was glad to hear it.  As far as he was concerned, the two men were meant for each other, and after the time he’d spent with the DJ back in November, he was glad to see Genji’s feelings seemed as strong as Lucio’s.  “We still keep in touch.  Lemme see if I can wrangle him to New York for ya.  I mean - if that’s how ya wanna do things?”  

 

“We’re still trying to work out all the details now that I’m awake and _mostly_ functional again, but I would like that.  When I know more about what’s happening, we can decide on a good time and place.”

 

Nodding, Jesse couldn’t help trying to sate his own curiosity.  “So - you gonna tell me exactly what happened or do I hafta play twenty questions?”

 

Genji was laughing at him again.  Damn, he’d missed that.

 

“I don’t remember too much.  Even now, things are still hazy.  I woke up here a little more than two months ago.  Since then the doctor has been working hard to get me back on my feet.”  He hesitated and then continued. “Literally.”

 

Almost unconsciously, Jesse’s eyes drifted to Genji’s covered legs.  “An’ how’s that goin’ for ya?”

 

“Well enough.  Apparently, if my doctor is to be believed, I press myself too hard and expect too much too quickly.”  The green-haired man grinned.  “When he lectures me, I tell him he’s lucky to have me and not my brother.”

 

Letting out a guffaw of laughter, Jesse nodded.  “Damn straight!  Hanzo’s more bull-headed than you by miles-!”  He stopped, expression immediately turning guilty as Genji’s eyes narrowed in cautious confusion.

 

“How… do you know my brother?”

 

Damn.  “Me n’ my big mouth…” Jesse muttered, feeling his heartbeat start to speed up as he anticipated Genji’s reaction.

 

“McCree…?”

 

“Don't go gettin' all worried.  It's not nothin' bad, I swear.  Tha first time we met was at yer grave.  It… didn’t go well. Then, he showed up at tha shop...”

 

Jesse continued to talk, starting from the beginning.  He didn’t hide anything.  Not from Genji.  How could he?  Occasionally, he’d get a laugh or a sound of disbelief, and when he got to that night - to the kiss and what followed - his friend begged him to skip over the ‘gory details.’  He did, but they were both smiling now, and Jesse was finally relaxing.  He’d always hoped Genji would be accepting, but witnessing it first hand was a relief.

 

“So - that’s how things are.  It ain’t perfect. I know that.  Dangerous as fuck.  But…”  He sighed, shrugging.

 

“He makes you happy.”  It was a statement, not a question.  Genji shook his head in disbelief, laughing softly.  “You and my brother?  It is difficult for me to picture such a thing.  And yet… it sounds like you’ve been good for him.”

 

“He’s been good fer me, too,” the ex-con admitted, grinning.  “Life’s feelin’ right for tha first time in a long time.”

 

A spark of playfulness entered Genji’s expression.  “So, does this mean I can’t get my other tattoo?”

 

Jesse laughed, the last of the tension rolling off of him.  “An have all that work I did go ta waste? Hell yes, ya can!  Han can jus’ learn ta deal.” He paused, the silence hanging. “I-I’m real glad yer okay with this Genj…  It’s somethin’ I worried about.”

 

“My brother and I have not always seen eye to eye.  Over time, our interests separated us. The idea of him wishing to honor me in death is surprising.  But in good ways…”

 

There was hesitation in his voice as Jesse asked, “I… hafta keep this from him - don’t I?”

 

Genji grimaced in apology, nodding.  “Please.  For now.”

 

Sighing, Jesse nodded, looking down at his hands in resignation.  “It won’t be easy.  He misses you somethin’ fierce.”

 

“Until I’m fully healed and everything is finalized, it is for the best.  The fewer people who know, the easier everything will be.  I wasn’t sure, at first, if I was going to tell him.  But having talked to you… I’ve decided I want him to know.”  

 

“You won’t regret it.  Give ya my word.  Gettin’ a second chance with you is gonna make his year.  Jus’ wait n’ see.”

 

They talked for the rest of the day - right up until the doctor appeared, suggesting (not quite subtly) that his patient needed rest.  After agreeing that a random visiting schedule would be safest - once every week or so - Jesse got ready to go. He almost didn’t want to; there was a real fear that the next time he came to the warehouse, no one would let him in… or it’d be empty… or something equally ‘Twilight Zone.’  But he knew he couldn’t stay forever, so with one final hug, Jesse headed out, swearing he’d be back before the week was out.  

 

Keeping all of this from Hanzo was going to kill him inside… and he prayed the other man would forgive him once he learned the truth.  But Jesse had to honor Genji’s request. There was too much at stake for his friend otherwise. This would all work out for the best.  It had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, also! I had to show off what my cousin got me for Christmas!!!!
> 
> https://i.pinimg.com/originals/96/4a/f6/964af626f3930922c85d4492f03f2c34.jpg
> 
> I was SO excited to see this little piece of my fic represented in real life, so I had to share! :D


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